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Padmavati wiped her hands on her cotton pallu . "Because your father, when he was small, had a stammer. The school made him feel small. On Wednesdays, he and I made kulfi . And while we churned, his words came out smooth. Wednesday became his day of sweetness."

Kavya glanced at her laptop. Three unread emails. A Slack notification. "In a minute, Dadi. Big presentation."

Kavya closed her laptop.

Padmavati smiled—a rare, crinkling thing that lit up her entire face. "First, you must learn patience. The milk does not hurry. Why should you?"