1 The day had begun like any other in Kolkata, with the skies threatening a storm since dawn. By late afternoon, the monsoon had broken loose in all its fury, lashing against tin rooftops and overflowing the narrow lanes with muddy water. Rhea, clutching the edges of her cotton saree and balancing her satchel on her shoulder, made her way to the Sealdah station. The crowd was maddening, umbrellas collapsing under the weight of rain, clothes sticking damply to bodies. She joined the stream of commuters pushing into the local train, her hair escaping its bun, raindrops trailing down her…