Agatha Christie meets Abir Mukherjee, Vaseem Khan, and Chetan Bagat in this fresh whodunit set in modern-day India.

Amongst the Gujaratis in the rarified circles of Mumbai’s posh Temple Hill, there is nothing more tragic than the loss of face. Not even loss of life. Reputations are sacred. Appearances, vital. And the ability to air kiss your way through large family-gatherings, a critical life skill. But lurking beneath the diamond-studded prayer meetings, the luxurious spa afternoons at the club and the lavishly catered ‘pure-veg’ brunches, is everything human – unfulfilled yearnings, festering grievances, hidden agendas, not to mention, a secret that has been buried for far too long.

Defiant in the face of rumor, award-winning novelist Radhika Zaveri returns home to Temple Hill in search of a salve for her broken heart and inspiration for her humiliating writer’s block. What she finds instead is a terrible tragedy. Her best friend Sanjana, who is expecting her first child, has just lost her father – to suicide. Or so it seems.

Cantankerous and pigheaded, Kirti Kadakia has never walked away from a fight. And yet, just hours after telling Sanjana that he couldn’t wait to hold his grandchild in his arms, he kills himself? Sanjana is in shock. What happened that day? And why is their young maid so terrified? Also, what has their meddlesome neighbour, Mrs. Maniar, really heard?

As Radhi helps Sanjana look for answers, she realizes that Kadakia’s own complicated family knows much more than they are letting on. And the deeper she digs, the faster she finds herself drawn into a web of lies so tightly tangled that by the time she can unravel the truth, it will be too late for at least one more person.

Will she be able to bring peace to Sanjana without compromising her already fragile pregnancy? And will she find it herself?