The apartment was quiet except for the hum of the refrigerator and the occasional clatter of dishes as Ramya cleaned up after lunch. She had sent Sam off to work with a quick kiss, her fingers lingering on his collar just a little longer than necessary. Now, alone in the kitchen, she wiped her hands on her nighty, the thin cotton clinging to her curves in ways that made her self-conscious—though there was no one around to notice.

Or so she thought.