The infant shifted lightly against her chest, settling with a soft, milk-sweet sigh as Shivanya pulled him back into the secure cradle of her arms. The heavy, polished gold of her bangles clicked against each other with a dry, metallic resonance in the quiet corridor, a sharp punctuation mark to the finality of her verdict.

Advay stood frozen, the tiny, warm weight of his nephew cradled awkwardly against his broad chest. His arms, usually accustomed to holding the heavy weight of authority, felt suddenly fragile, terrified of breaking the fragile trust just handed to him. He looked up, his eyes bloodshot and hollow, expecting at least a fraction of the sister he had once known to linger in her gaze.