The corpses of my brother and sister-in-law lay shrouded in pristine white cloth in our mansion's cavernous hall, their stillness an obscene contradiction to the life they once embodied. The air hung thick with the stench of death and sorrow, clinging to every surface like a malevolent fog. My mother—reduced to a husk of herself—knelt on the marble floor before Bhai's body, her  fingers clutching his lifeless hands as if her desperate grip could somehow tether his soul to this world. Each of her sobs tore through the room like shards of glass, embedding themselves in my chest until I could scarcely breathe