The parking lot was nearly empty, the last rays of sun painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. Kabir's car sat alone in his reserved spot, a sleek black machine that cost more than Sitara's father would earn in a lifetime.

He had dragged her here, his grip on her wrist unrelenting, ignoring her protests, her struggles, her desperate attempts to pull away. Now they stood beside the car, and Sitara yanked her arm free with a strength born of pure fury.