I pace as we wait for the water to boil. When it begins to bubble, Gita drops the medication into the pot and then retreats to the far side of the flat. I scoop Mani into my arms and hold him over the burbling water, a blanket tented over both of our heads. The bitter steam fills the small space and Mani stirs to life, his head turning toward the pot like a flower reaching for the sunlight. My heart tumbles forward. He’s going to live. I hold him in my arms until the pot boils dry, and by the time I finally lay him down on the bed, my muscles are screaming. Gita stands in the doorway with her hand over her nose and mouth to block the smell.
“Time to talk,” she says. “Let’s go outside.”
I step out and close the door behind me. The air smells so clean out here that I pull in the deepest breath I can, let it expand my lungs until they feel ready to burst. Gita watches me with a pained expression. She reaches for my hand, but I pull away.
“Marinda.” She says my name with such affection that it actually hurts a little. “Gopal asked me to come. Iyla has set up the next meeting.”
I knew this was coming, but I still feel a pressure against my chest that makes it hard to breathe. I haven’t given Deven the last dose of venom, and I’m not sure how I will protect him now.
“Where?” I ask. “When?”
Gita sighs and lays a hand on my arm. “Please listen to me,” she says. “It is important that you do this thing for Gopal.”
“This thing?” I ask. “You mean this murder.”
Gita closes her eyes, as if I’m trying her patience. “I think we’ve had enough insolence for today.” It’s pointless to argue with her. She has a message and she’s going to do her duty and deliver it.
“Just give me the details,” I tell her.
She digs her fingers into my arm and shakes me. “Not until you pay attention.” Her voice is colored with urgency and her eyes have gone wild. “Gopal is as angry as I’ve ever seen him. You must not defy him again.”
I swallow hard. “Again?”
Her eyes narrow. “Gopal is not a stupid man, Marinda. He knows you haven’t been truthful. This boy is not worth it, no matter what you think of him.” She lets go of my arm and presses her palm to her forehead. “There are things you don’t know,” she says. “Decisions you’re in no position to make.”
My stomach is churning. Gita’s words confirm my worst fears—that Gopal never believed me, that he whipped Iyla only to send a message. He intended for her to show me the welts on her back. That he would hurt her only to force me into compliance isn’t surprising, but it still makes me feel sick.
Gita studies my face. “Don’t put your safety at risk,” she says. And then after a long pause, “Or your brother’s safety.” Her words send gooseflesh racing up my arms.
“Are you threatening to hurt Mani?” My voice comes out like a growl.
“Of course not,” Gita says, though we both know she can hurt him simply by staying away. “But you would do well not to anger Gopal.” She hands me a folded slip of paper. “The boy’s address is written here,” she says, tapping the paper. “You must go immediately.”
“To his home?” This is unprecedented. The kills always happen in a public place, surrounded by people and noise. It’s part of tradecraft, something that has been drilled into me since I was small. Never be alone with the target. Missions are completed in full daylight. My mouth goes dry. I have spent nearly the last week wishing I knew where Deven lived, and now I’m holding the answer in my palm. I unfold the paper and my mouth falls open.
“This is Iyla’s neighborhood,” I say.
Gita chews her lip and nods. It must mean something that they live near each other, but I can’t think what. “Memorize the address,” she says, holding out her hand. “Then I will destroy the paper.”
It won’t be hard to remember. I’ve passed this house twice in the last week. I give the slip back to Gita and she tucks it away. “You go now,” she says. “I will stay with your brother.”
“No,” I say. “Mani comes with me.”
“Marinda, you can’t—”
I hold up a hand to stop her, and fix her with a hard stare. “He comes with me or I don’t go.” After Gita’s thinly veiled threat, I know I can never leave Mani alone with her again.
“Very well,” Gita says. “I will allow you to be stubborn on this point.” She grabs my jaw and forces me to look into her eyes. “But make no mistake: Gopal expects the boy to be dead by sundown.”
The only way to save Deven now is to tell him the truth.
I’m across the street from his house, leaning against a tree trunk. The knobby stump of a missing branch digs into my back, but I don’t move. Mani sits at my feet, twisting blades of grass into a rope. His recovery was almost instant—a few hours after the breathing treatment and he walked here on his own strength. From the outside, Deven’s house looks exactly like Iyla’s—the same pale-yellow stucco, an identical red roof. But I have a feeling the inside will be completely different. I’m just searching for the courage to find out. I rehearse in my mind what I need to say, but I’m not sure I can make my mouth form the words: Today I’m supposed to kill you, but I think you should run instead. There’s a good chance someone else will try to kill you soon, so don’t trust anyone. And whatever you do, don’t let anyone kiss you.
I have the vial of poison in my pocket on the off chance I can convince him to take a final dose. It seems unlikely.