Anjali spent the entire weekend in a strange, quiet haze. Her body still carried the deep ache from the five men from Hyderabad — a constant, low throb in both her holes that had become almost familiar. She barely left her PG room. She ordered food twice, slept in short stretches, and spent long hours lying on her narrow bed staring at the slowly rotating ceiling fan.

The decision she had made in front of Rajesh no longer felt like a heavy choice. It felt final. The girl who had once trembled in the interview cabin was gone. In her place was someone who had stopped fighting the path that had opened in front of her.