he felt a strange kind of uneasiness. It had set in the minute he’d walked into that small, airless room in the boardinghouse. Now, nearly thirty minutes later, the feeling was still with him.
There was something odd about that scene, as if it didn’t belong there, like seeing an exotic animal outside its natural habi-tat. It just didn’t add up.
Isha Ketkar, or rather Isha Tilak, was the last person on earth he’d imagined he’d run into at a convent—as a resident, that is.
When Mother Regina had mentioned a recent widow who’d come to seek asylum, he’d never expected someone like Isha.
What exactly had reduced her to this degree of destitution?
She had to be desperate to beg the nuns to take her in. How heartbreaking was it to become a widow at such a young age and, moreover, to have been pregnant when it happened?
A minute later, he drove out of the convent compound and saw Sister Rose in the rearview mirror, shutting the gates behind him and slapping the iron padlock on them.
Despite the convent’s location in the center of town, it might as well have been in a godforsaken desert. Once that lock was in place, the outside world probably ceased to exist for those living inside.
His thoughts remained centered on Isha as he maneuvered the car along the narrow, pedestrian- and bicycle-clogged streets.
Recalling the rough, worn sheet her beautiful newborn baby was wrapped in, he sighed. An infant from a family like hers should have been dressed in spotless clothes and swaddled in a soft blanket. The older child, Priya, who seemed so bright and pretty and inquisitive, should have been sleeping on a proper bed and not a hard floor.
How was Isha going to manage the care of the children? Did she have any money at all or had she fled her in-laws’ home with nothing? Had they abused her in some way? Was that why she had left them, or had they cast her out with no mercy? What kind of people were they?
In the next instant something triggered in his brain. The truth THE
FORBIDDEN
DAUGHTER 73
dawned on him. There were very few Tilaks in town. Her in-laws were probably the most prominent ones—owners of the largest tire distributorship in the state. They were wealthy folks and well-known in the area. And she’d said her husband’s name was Nikhil.
As Harish slowly started to put together the missing pieces of the puzzle, he recalled the media frenzy some months ago surrounding Nikhil Tilak’s puzzling and brutal murder. So, Isha had been married to the late Nikhil—a handsome, wealthy, charismatic businessman—every girl’s dream husband. Why hadn’t Harish made the connection immediately? Nikhil was just the sort of man he had imagined a girl like Isha would end up with.
Nikhil had been about three years senior to Harish in college, but Harish remembered how the girls had tripped over each other in trying to capture Nikhil’s attention. He used to be the college tennis champion. He had a mediocre academic record, but he hadn’t needed brilliant marks or advanced degrees since he had a thriving business handed to him on a platter.
Harish even recalled his own family talking about Nikhil’s shocking homicide and shaking their heads in bewilderment.
“A brutal murder in a town like Palgaum!” his father had exclaimed. “Very strange. Someone must have had a reason to do it, because those Tilaks are involved in all that black-marketeering business.”
His father was old-school and disdained illegal business practices. But he could be right. Powerful and wealthy people made enemies.
“Such a tragedy, no?” his mother had clucked. “Imagine what the man’s parents are suffering. And that poor girl who was married to him is now a widow. She is so young, too.”
As far as Harish knew, Nikhil’s killer was still at large. The whole episode was a mystery.
Harish hadn’t known then that Nikhil’s widow was Isha Ketkar. After he’d left for medical school, Harish had not stayed in touch with
There was something odd about that scene, as if it didn’t belong there, like seeing an exotic animal outside its natural habi-tat. It just didn’t add up.
Isha Ketkar, or rather Isha Tilak, was the last person on earth he’d imagined he’d run into at a convent—as a resident, that is.
When Mother Regina had mentioned a recent widow who’d come to seek asylum, he’d never expected someone like Isha.
What exactly had reduced her to this degree of destitution?
She had to be desperate to beg the nuns to take her in. How heartbreaking was it to become a widow at such a young age and, moreover, to have been pregnant when it happened?
A minute later, he drove out of the convent compound and saw Sister Rose in the rearview mirror, shutting the gates behind him and slapping the iron padlock on them.
Despite the convent’s location in the center of town, it might as well have been in a godforsaken desert. Once that lock was in place, the outside world probably ceased to exist for those living inside.
His thoughts remained centered on Isha as he maneuvered the car along the narrow, pedestrian- and bicycle-clogged streets.
Recalling the rough, worn sheet her beautiful newborn baby was wrapped in, he sighed. An infant from a family like hers should have been dressed in spotless clothes and swaddled in a soft blanket. The older child, Priya, who seemed so bright and pretty and inquisitive, should have been sleeping on a proper bed and not a hard floor.
How was Isha going to manage the care of the children? Did she have any money at all or had she fled her in-laws’ home with nothing? Had they abused her in some way? Was that why she had left them, or had they cast her out with no mercy? What kind of people were they?
In the next instant something triggered in his brain. The truth THE
FORBIDDEN
DAUGHTER 73
dawned on him. There were very few Tilaks in town. Her in-laws were probably the most prominent ones—owners of the largest tire distributorship in the state. They were wealthy folks and well-known in the area. And she’d said her husband’s name was Nikhil.
As Harish slowly started to put together the missing pieces of the puzzle, he recalled the media frenzy some months ago surrounding Nikhil Tilak’s puzzling and brutal murder. So, Isha had been married to the late Nikhil—a handsome, wealthy, charismatic businessman—every girl’s dream husband. Why hadn’t Harish made the connection immediately? Nikhil was just the sort of man he had imagined a girl like Isha would end up with.
Nikhil had been about three years senior to Harish in college, but Harish remembered how the girls had tripped over each other in trying to capture Nikhil’s attention. He used to be the college tennis champion. He had a mediocre academic record, but he hadn’t needed brilliant marks or advanced degrees since he had a thriving business handed to him on a platter.
Harish even recalled his own family talking about Nikhil’s shocking homicide and shaking their heads in bewilderment.
“A brutal murder in a town like Palgaum!” his father had exclaimed. “Very strange. Someone must have had a reason to do it, because those Tilaks are involved in all that black-marketeering business.”
His father was old-school and disdained illegal business practices. But he could be right. Powerful and wealthy people made enemies.
“Such a tragedy, no?” his mother had clucked. “Imagine what the man’s parents are suffering. And that poor girl who was married to him is now a widow. She is so young, too.”
As far as Harish knew, Nikhil’s killer was still at large. The whole episode was a mystery.
Harish hadn’t known then that Nikhil’s widow was Isha Ketkar. After he’d left for medical school, Harish had not stayed in touch with
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