She told three people.
The first was her older sister, in a conversation that lasted four hours at a kitchen table in Jayanagar and that her sister received with the specific quality of attention of someone who loves you and is deciding whether to be afraid for you or afraid of what you're telling them. She was afraid of both. She was also, after the four hours, convinced — not of all of it, not the cosmology of it, but of the material facts: the floor discrepancy, the call recordings that didn't match what had happened on the calls, the database on floor ten, Divya's disappearance, Vikram's return from the mezzanine as a slightly different person.
"People disappeared," her sister said.
"Yes."
"And the company knows."
"The management knew about the arrangement. They may not have fully understood what the arrangement meant for the people inside it."
"That's not a distinction that helps them," her sister said, in the tone of a lawyer, which she was.
