“Neil,” Anita said. The tense articulation of my name, and the surmised plea within it, was all she could get out, for Linda was steering Anita toward the auntie, who had removed her glasses to reveal eyes misting up with fear. I heard Anita snap, “She’s speaking English, Linda…” and realized I was on my own. If we had not just failed to get the best of the Screwvala gold, I might have walked away from Minkus, and all might have gone differently. But we had only eight pieces in my bag. We’d wanted closer to thirty.

From the loudspeaker, “DJ Jai Zee in the house from Dil Se Entertainment letting you know we gonna have a hella-tight raffle following a fashion show in five-ten minutes.”

Very briefly, my own eyes came into significant contact with Minkus’s gloomy ones. We shared something, a stab of scorn for this, our milieu.

I cleared my throat, then brandished one collar-like necklace at Prachi. I’d forgotten the long list of proper Indian names that Anita had assigned each product. “This is cool.”

She glanced sidelong at Minkus, and half shrugged. “Kind of a mess,” she said to me, but her voice was not quiet enough; Minkus Jhaveri’s hairy right ear cocked—a hunter’s ear, alert.

“Anita says they source everything from, like, this one really good dude, somewhere in… uh, India… Anita says this is who she’d most want to go with—”

I was growing frantic, for Anita had been drawn to the Jhaveri Bazaar wares not just for Minkus’s wandering eye but for his father’s taste. He was a gentle man, she’d said, who relished stocking wedding wares in particular; her mother had known him to receive invitations from the brides he outfitted, so warm was their relationship after the selling. His gold was the stuff of solid relationships and sturdy happiness. She wanted these pieces, for her mother. I wanted them for me.

DJ Jai Zee, amplified: “If y’all are excited about your wedding days give it up give it up,” and a smattering of applause. “Oh god I hope y’all’s grooms didn’t hear that. Hey look, I see one dude out there he’s like I wanna be watching football, amirite?”

Anita, behind me: “Auntie, do you remember where you saw your granddaughter last?”

Minkus Jhaveri wasn’t turning away. Prachi was trying to get cell service. Anita was preoccupied. I didn’t know what else to do. I toppled forward and caught the Jhaveri Bazaar cart as I collapsed. The pieces on the case clattered to the ground. Minkus crouched over me. His gaze fell on my hands while I clenched my fists around whatever gold I could grab. No time to replace anything.