Bengaluru at night was a sensory overload that made Times Square feel organized.

Vivek had managed to survive the data-audit with Ananya’s CTO—a man who seemed to have been programmed by Ananya herself to speak exclusively in binary—and had retreated to his hotel. But the luxury of the Leela Palace, with its gold-leafed ceilings and quiet hallways, felt stifling. Vivek was a creature of movement. In New York, he’d be hitting a late-night gym or grabbing a street taco in the West Village.