“Why don’t you have a family?”
“I ran away.” The child’s shoulders slumped.
“They said I had a demon who swallowed my husband, but I didn’t,” Thakubai pleaded. “You must believe me.” The child dropped her red-rimmed eyes.
Rama sighed. Child widows in the abstract were easy to talk about. Thakubai was real. “You’d better come home with me. We’ll give you a bath and new clothes.”
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