"Sit outside," her mother said, waving a spatula. "I'll bring you water. Did you eat? You look thin." This was the script. Step 1: Mother offers service (food/water). Step 2: Meera accepts service while checking emails. Step 3: Meera criticizes the service (too oily/too salty) or the server (why are you wearing that torn saree?). Step 4: Meera leaves, feeling "dutiful," leaving her mother feeling "used." Today, Meera didn't move. She looked at her mother's feet. They were swollen, stuffed into rubber slippers that had worn thin at the heels. If she died tonight, Meera thought, the visualization from Dr. Farah's clinic flooding her system, I would never see those swollen feet again.