The old wooden chair creaked under her weight as Siya leaned forward, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. The fan above spun lazily, doing little to ease the sticky heat clinging to her skin.

"Kitni garmi hai aaj," she muttered, pulling at the thin fabric of her sleeveless blouse where it stuck to her chest. The village was quiet—too quiet. Not even the usual chatter of birds broke the heavy silence.