Every time my brother-in-law drove me home, I would lose consciousness and wake up with unexplained aches and pains. My husband would only laugh and say, “You’re just out of shape, that’s all.” After the fourth ride, I secretly slipped a voice recorder into my purse and said nothing. That night, I listened to a phone conversation between the two of them that revealed my blackouts had never been accidental.

Then Priya’s phone rang over the speakers.

It was a number neither of us recognized.

She declined it.

A text appeared moments later.

Tell Sofia her husband knows she’s with you.

We can discuss this privately, or it can become expensive for everyone.

I read it twice.

The language was businesslike, as though someone were trying to negotiate a late invoice.