Saanvi’s wrists were bound tight with rough rope when they dragged her back into the village square. The sun hung high and merciless over the packed dirt, and the entire village had already gathered—men, women, even some of the older children hanging at the edges. Whispers moved through the crowd like wind through dry grass. Everyone knew what happened to those who tried to run a second time.

The headman, Ratan, stood on the raised wooden platform with his arms crossed. His voice carried easily.