Chapter 19Iris’ mother, Nupur Sen could not believe that her husband, Dhiman, was promising to send $35,000 US to their daughter for some transaction involving a baby.
“Yes, you can have it by wire transfer, as soon as you need it,” she heard him say on the phone. That was thirty-five thousand dollars, as in how much money some people made by slogging their butt off for an entire year. Had he gone mad?
thousandThey were seated in the office of the Himalayan retreat, in the one and only room which was equipped with a telephone. It was past midnight and the resort was asleep, but Dhiman, once he had established contact with Iris, insisted on calling his daughter back at least once every hour. This retreat was so deliberately isolated that only a Volvo bus peddling the route once a week cou
