On the day the twins began to make their way into this world, the wind swirled the snow into a blinding gale. The air was so thick it reminded me of mist, like the one that had ushered Rati to our valley long ago. I opened the shutters expecting to see two horses pulling a queen’s chariot up to our threshold. I remembered her awful eyes and prayed that I would not see them again. I slammed the shutters closed, refusing to allow any spirit in this warm world in which two babies were making their way...