The Garden of Burning Sand

“In case it matters to you, he did take care of her,” Zoe said. “He put her up in a nice flat, made her his personal assistant. Your plan might actually have worked.” She took a deep breath, bracing herself. “There was only one problem. She was carrying your child.”


Jan sat back against the bench and closed his eyes. In the silence that ensued, nature reasserted its dominance. Water trickled down the rock, clouds sailed the sky-sea overhead, and birds called to one another. At last he opened his eyes again. “How do you know?”

She pointed at the journal still in his hands. “Read it for yourself. I dog-eared the page.”

His fingers trembled as he opened the cover. He found the marked passage near the end of the volume and scanned the text. When he finished, his shoulders slumped. “It’s possible I am the father,” he said slowly. “But it’s also possible she was wrong.”

“There’s a way to be certain,” Zoe replied, and outlined her plan.

He looked toward the pond. “I need to think about this.”

She struggled to contain her impatience. “We don’t have much time.”

“Give me until morning,” he said.





chapter 26




Lusaka, Zambia

April, 2012

Three days before the trial of Darious Nyambo, Dunstan Sisilu appeared outside the CILA office driving the gray Prado. He parked on the opposite side of the street and watched the parking lot, making no attempt at concealment. Joseph was the first to see him, and he informed Zoe and Mariam. Mariam, in turn, called an emergency all-staff meeting. Ten minutes later, all twenty employees took seats at the conference table. Most were perplexed; a few were unsettled.

“It’s obvious they want Anna back,” Mariam said, glancing out the window toward the gate. “But what lengths will they go to to find her?”

Joseph spoke up. “I suspect their focus will be on Zoe and me, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they watch the rest of the legal team.”

“I’ll alert the guards,” Mariam replied. “I don’t want anyone leaving here unescorted until the trial is over. Travel in twos or threes. If you have security at home, put them on notice.” She paused. “What do you think we should do about our witnesses?”

“If we tell them, they won’t testify,” Niza said. “It would be one thing if we had knowledge that they’re in danger. But we don’t.”

Zoe nodded. “I agree. He’s known where they live for months. They’re as safe now as they were before.”

Sarge leaned forward. “I suppose there’s a bright side to this. They aren’t certain Flexon Mubita is on their side.”

Joseph looked dubious. “The magistrate isn’t their only concern. If Anna talks publicly, her story could damage the Nyambos’ reputation. Mubita is still a wild card.”

Silence descended upon the room. Zoe saw the weight of uncertainty in her colleagues’ eyes. She felt it as much as they did, but she felt something else, too—anger. It gave her the will to fight. She almost spoke up, but a glance at Mariam made her hesitate. Instead of doubtful, the field-office director looked determined.

“You know,” Mariam said, putting her hands on the table, “at the beginning of all of this, Niza predicted that the Nyambos would treat this case like an act of war. That’s exactly what they’ve done. There’s no way we can control them. We can’t control their thugs. We can’t control the Court. But we don’t need to. Our task is to prosecute Darious. If we do that, we dignify Kuyeya and every Zambian girl who lives in fear of rape.”

As she spoke, heads began to nod, including Zoe’s.

“I’ve been in this seat for seven years,” Mariam continued. “I can’t count how many times my heart has been broken. This case might break it again. Then again, it might not.” She paused, looking at each face around the table. “Let’s make this the best trial we’ve ever put on.”

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