‘I will reach in under the lungs and feel for the heart. It will be easier for me if I can find it without cutting through the sternum, but I’ve brought a saw just in case. Now, you need to watch me. Watch my hands. The first incision needs to be confident and slow.’ Dhara spoke clearly, copying Rajan word for word. He had been showing them how to dissect aubergines since they were children. She now enjoyed spending her spare time watching him operate at the university hospital. He used the same opening words with his medical students.

Priya shuffled back and sat on the ground, her skin paler than usual and her breathing erratic as she swallowed rapidly.

‘Imagine this is an enormous aubergine,’ Dhara tried again, patting the taut pink dermis layer of skin. It was embroidered with a labyrinth of tiny violet veins, leading inwards, seeking the animal’s hidden heart. The goat smelled like palm sugar, fresh coconut and boiled green gram. She brought scalpel to skin and heard a dull thud as Priya slumped to the floor.

•

Dhara relaxed as Priya finally opened her eyes. They smiled at each other, Priya sheepishly. Dhara pulled back the sheets and slid into her side of the bed.

‘How are you?’ she asked.

‘I’m pathetic,’ Priya replied, turning her face away.

‘Dissections are hard, Acca, don’t worry. We’ll try again tomorrow.’ Dhara had located and removed the heart, storing it at the back of Ayah’s refrigerator.

‘What happened to the goat?’ Priya rolled over to face her sister.

‘Ayah, mutton curry,’ she replied, and they both laughed at the thought of Ayah disposing of the evidence. Carlo, Nala mami’s Great Dane, would have bones for weeks.

Priya propped herself up on her pillows. ‘Dhara, can I ask you something?’ She smoothed the sheets around her compulsively. ‘Are you angry about the proposal? Because if you are, then I will tell Amma that I can’t marry him …’

Dhara didn’t look at Priya as she considered her answer. She stared at the mosquito net that hung from the ceiling. Every morning she lifted it off the bed and tied it into a high knot. Every evening she untied it, letting the soft folds of muslin spill over the bed, encasing the two of them in its protective arms. The barrier could not keep out the demons that stirred when the Sun God slept.

‘No, Acca, I’m not upset. I’m happy for you and I’m relieved for me. I’m not ready for marriage yet; maybe not ever, I just don’t know. The astrologer has saved me for at least a few years.’

‘Appa said that astrologer is an idiot,’ Priya replied.

‘You should marry the doctor. He sounds nice and smart and astrologically excellent,’ she laughed.