Rose's story of torment

Rose released Andy’s hand, held the bottle of water with both hands and drank it in quick gulps. When she rested the bottle on the table, her dilated eyes spoke about the turmoil she was living again, while sharing this story.

Anya was watching Andy. His face looked impassive and his jaw was clenched. A typical ‘angry Andy’ sign. “Thank you, madam,” Rose's soft voice brought Anya’s attention back to her.

Anya waved her hand. “That’s alright. Will you be able to talk?”

Rose nodded and continued, “The man Abbas, was handsome. About 30 years old at that time. He had seen me in the fields. Although I wore my hijab, today I wonder how he had seen me. But at that time I was young and naive. Full of dreams. I wanted to do something for myself and my family.

Abbas was working in Mumbai. He wore expensive clothes. He had style! His sparkling watch and stylish sunglasses reeked of money. He gave 25000 takas (Bangladesh currency) to my parents for marrying