I still remember the first time I saw her—Maggie Pinto, laughing under the monsoon rain, her hair clinging to her face like a dream. I was just out of juvenile jail, trying to vanish into the city’s chaos. But she looked at me like I wasn’t a monster. Like I was worth seeing.\n\nWe kept meeting—on buses, at the café near Marine Drive, once in the hospital where her mother scowled at me like I carried disease. But Maggie smiled. And then she kissed me.\n\nNow, I’m standing outside her house again, heart pounding. I know her mother called the police last time. I know they think I’ll hurt her. But I’d rather die than lay a hand on Maggie in anger.\n\nMy phone buzzes—Guruji’s voice: 'They’ve sent men after you. Don’t go there tonight.'\n\nBut I can see her light on. She’s waiting.\n\nDo I turn back… or do I walk up and face whatever comes?