Anushka adjusted the thin strap of her white cotton nightie for the third time, standing hesitantly at the edge of the living room. The clock on the wall showed 11:47 PM. The house was quiet except for the low hum of the ceiling fan and the occasional creak of the old sofa. Her mother had gone to bed early, complaining of a headache after another long day at the office. That left just Anushka and Mohit—her new stepfather.

It had only been four months since her mother’s remarriage. Mohit was a tall, broad-shouldered man in his late thirties, with a commanding presence that filled every room he entered. He worked as a senior executive in a pharmaceutical company, which explained the “special vitamins” he had started giving Anushka two weeks ago. “For your health, beti,” he had said with that calm, authoritative smile. “You’re too thin. These will help you bloom.”