They left one by one.

Abhimanyu first, already on his phone before he'd cleared the doorway, rattling off instructions to someone at his firm in the clipped shorthand of a man who billed by the minute. Mukti paused at the threshold and looked back at Manik with an expression he recognized — the one she'd worn since they were children, when she knew something was wrong but had decided to wait before pushing. She'd always known when to push and when to let him breathe.