Each morning, before the sun touched the sky, she placed the jar on her head and made the trip from her home to the nearest well. Often, she would travel with other women from the village, but today, she was alone.
His tone changed as he said this last, growing sharper. “Don’t deny it. You’re one of them. We don’t serve your kind here. Get out!” Somwati’s lip trembled as she turned away, but she did not cry.