by Sumitra Singam Stephanie Gibeault Sweat pours, cracking through the layer of dust on my face, like rain flooding desiccated riverbeds. I can’t have a bath. My mother-in-law hasn’t heated the water yet. She refuses to let me have a cold one, though my body pulls towards the hose like it is a magnet. “Any fool knows that will turn the baby into a girl,” she says, talking out of the corner of her mouth. “Wait until the sun goes down, then you can have bath hot-hot.” Her paan