The morning in the Mumbai chawl didn't begin with an alarm; it began with the aggressive clatter of plastic buckets against the communal tap. It was 4:30 AM. The water only ran for two hours, and in their small room, every drop was a victory.

Rohini sat on the edge of her thin cot, her eyes burning. She had been up until 3:00 AM finishing the "advanced" calculus modules for Kabir—modules he would present to his professor later that morning as his own brilliant insights. To the university, she was a fellow student. To the Malhotras, she was the "tutor" they had bought to ensure their youngest son didn't fail his way out of his degree.