Aneesha Marak Part 1: The Broken Route It was past nine when the cab took the sharp bend near Cherrapunji, the headlights cutting through curtains of mist that clung to the hills like secrets. The driver muttered something in Khasi, tapped the dashboard thrice, and the engine made a coughing sound that didn’t feel reassuring. Inside the cab sat three people who hadn’t planned to meet each other—much less rely on one another. But Meghalaya, with her moody skies and rain-polished roads, has a way of bending fate like bamboo in the wind. Anaya, curled up in the backseat with…