Venkat looked as exhausted as she felt, but he met her in the closet. She strode forward, on the brink of demanding the boon he’d promised.

Gold glimmered in his eyes, a reflection in his brown irises. So much gold.

Tanvi spun around again.

The pink velvet–lined jewelry box gleamed with gold. So did most of the surrounding shelves. Bracelet after bracelet with charms dangling from the links.

Not one bracelet. Multiple bracelets. So many she couldn’t begin to guess the number.

Her thoughts blinked in and out. Her hand inched forward on its own. It took hold of one of the bracelets, then another.

They felt so solid. Tanvi’s hand brought them closer to her face. Her eyes, though she hadn’t told them to do that, either, scanned the charms. All seven pristine, perfectly formed dangling shapes on a delicate gold chain. Just as she’d always imagined.

No. No, no, no!

Tanvi flung herself at the other bracelets, scrutinizing one, then the next. A small, messy pile of gold loops accumulated on the floor, identical in every respect. She stared at them, then stormed past Venkat.

The accusation blasted out of her, almost loud enough to give voice to the backlog of screams in her chest. “What did you do?”

Even as devastated as she felt, as lost, she didn’t miss Venkat’s abashed pose, his shoulders and neck hunched over. He raised his head, and the sadness she saw there made her pause. “I traded you boons for your dreams. And you bought bracelets with them.” When he smiled, it was as bitter as that first cup of coffee from Prithvi. “Over a hundred, I believe.”

“No,” Tanvi said. “You lied to me. You let me believe this—at least a hundred times!” Just like Asha had known about Nitya and led Tanvi by the nose in her stupid, conniving games. As if Tanvi was a doll to wind up and move around.

The pile of discarded bracelets in the closet sparkled in her thoughts, cruel, compelling. She had to go look at them again.

This time, when she touched the shimmering pile, she knew they weren’t right. They didn’t sing the way her real bracelet should. No wonder she’d thrown them down.

Get lost, she thought impulsively. I don’t want you.

As if they’d heard her, they did, coming apart in a gale of golden particles that grew dimmer and dimmer until they disappeared altogether.

“They’re just copies,” Venkat said, though he sounded baffled. “Even so, they shouldn’t have vanished like that.”

Tanvi felt so small. Smaller than the smallest of the charms. She wanted to be as numb as Indu.

She thought of how Venkat had read her that story, of how close they’d sat, taking in the drawings together. How she’d liked that.

She could have punched him. None of that should have happened. None of it.