Years peeled by. The neighborhood changed: a café with glass windows where the sari vendor once sat, a busier road cutting through the lane. Rukmini grew smaller in a body that had once been broader with chores. The coin, dulled, stayed in her palm. One winter night, a fever took her quietly while her neighbors slept. The coin slipped from her fingers and rolled to the foot of her bed, coming to rest against a photograph of her grandmother.