I knock on the wall to let Samhita know I'm about to enter. Only after she gives me the all-clear do I punch in the password, and the wall begins to slide open. I have to go through this routine every time now, ever since the day I accidentally walked in on her changing. I'll never forget it—she was halfway through pulling off her shirt, and I turned around so fast it nearly gave me whiplash. Ever since, it's been awkward for me to face her. But strangely enough, she doesn't seem the least bit phased by it.

"Here, lady." I drop two books onto her desk with a thud. "And here are the drafts for the Sanskrit grammar. Should make it a whole lot easier for you to piece together the sentences."

Instead of taking the drafts from my hand, she snatches up the books, her eyes wide in disbelief. "You finished these in just two months? What the heck?"

"I did... it was easy." I smile, placing the drafts on top of the books she's clutching, watching her eyes widen even more.

"Easy? Vikram, we're talking about a language!" She stares at me, half in disbelief. "You learned Bengali in less than two months. It took me six, seven months just to get a grip on French!"