The sun was dipping low behind the mango trees. In the quiet haveli of Madhopur village, a breeze passed through the open windows, lifting the edge of Sunita’s red saree as she stood by the kitchen.

She had been married into the Chaudhary family for just over a year. Her husband, Mohan, worked as a mechanic in Patna and came home only once every few months. The rest of the time—she was here. Quiet, obedient, the perfect bahu.