People didn’t care what she heard, and it was only fair that she didn’t care what they heard. Befitting even. Somehow, it didn’t feel wrong, or disastrous. She knew enough about men now; now she knew how to squeeze happiness out of pain. Then, though her circumspect mother was proud of her and her brother belligerently loved her, they were only shreds of happiness that were not enough reparations. 

But he wanted to kill her. How could she do it knowing she had a brother? Didn’t she feel guilty doing it? She thought their father couldn’t do anything. Didn’t she care how her brother would react? Had she no fear of him? That was the only solution: he couldn’t let her live. 

Set in a small town of Punjab at the turn of the millennium, The Shreds of Character is the tale of a disgraced family and of an enraged guilt.