Sitting on the veranda a few days later, Rama glanced at the street to see a man pushing his way through pedestrians, carts, and wandering cows. Several paces behind him, an emaciated woman struggled to keep up. Rama stood taller when the man, who looked like a university student, turned into the entrance to Sharada Sadan.
He climbed the veranda steps and was about to knock on the door when he saw Rama. “Is this the school for widows? I bring my sister, Godubai Natu.”
Godubai, second daughter. Rama waited until the woman caught up and stood two steps lower than her brother. Rama observed the umbrella she used to keep the sun off her shaved head, the bones that protruded from her skin, and her sunken eyes.
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