Chapter 1
Delhi, India
2012, in the thick of the hot season
Amit hurried through the streets, running a hand through his hair. It was dry and cut too short. He’d refused the coconut oil his grandmother had insisted he apply for his first job interview.
His first real job interview, she had reminded him, tsking as he had hurried out the door.
Amit had glanced up at the painting of Krishna above the door frame and offered up a silent prayer.
Now, he dodged a tuk-tuk on the street. The driver honked and swerved, but Amit stayed the course.
It wasn’t his first job interview.
It wasn’t, in fact, a job interview at all.
He ducked in a side alley and ran, dodging lines of hanging wash and piles of fly-infested garbage.
The whole place stank, mixing with the scent of his own sweat through his stiff velour coat.
Another good reason not to add coconut oil to the mix.
Deep in the ally, he stopped, tucking his tie into his collar.
The cover had been necessary. Painstaking. His work required that.
The sounds coming from the other side of the door: a chair spun across the floor, then slammed into the wall, followed by a gagged scream.
It must be going well.
