The family bungalow sat on the edge of the lake like it had been waiting for them. Sameer had the keys. He always did. Ananya arrived late afternoon, suitcase in one hand, phone in the other, pretending the summer invitation had been casual. It wasn’t. Sameer had worded the message carefully—*Come for a few weeks. The place is empty. We can catch up properly this time.* She had read it three times before replying yes.

He met her at the gate. Tall, still broad from the years of swimming, dark eyes that didn’t look away when she stepped out of the cab. The air smelled of wet earth and jasmine. He took the suitcase without asking.