Mani has that same look on his face—like he’s inhaling salvation.
Rage wells in my chest and I snatch the pot from the heat and fling it across the room. It slams into the wall in a spray of water and shattered clay.
We had an unspoken agreement when Gopal pulled Mani from the river—my compliance for my brother’s safety. It was the only thing that kept me inside the nightmare Gopal had created. And this entire time Gopal has been killing Mani slowly right in front of me. My stomach turns. He made me beg him to poison Mani, made me fall on my knees and plead.
I yank open Iyla’s drawers and find a sharp knife to slip in my waistband under my sari.
“Marinda?” Mani says, his voice full of fear.
“We have to go,” I tell him. Late-afternoon sun streams through the window. Gita is supposed to meet us back at the flat at sundown, just a handful of hours from now. We have only a small window of opportunity to escape. I won’t be Gopal’s puppet anymore. Saving Deven is no longer enough. There will always be a next boy and then a next. But I won’t be the one to kill them. I don’t care how necessary the Raja thinks the deaths are.
“Are you strong enough for another walk?” I ask.
“I think so,” Mani says. “Where are we going?”
“Back to the flat for supplies,” I tell him. “And then we’re going to leave.”
“Forever?”
The hope in his voice sends a spasm of pain through me, and I’m determined not to fail him this time. “Forever,” I say.
We take a different way back to the flat than usual, and I stop frequently to duck into doorways and wait before continuing on. I’m nearly certain we haven’t been followed, but Gopal has surprised me before. I touch the knife at my waist—this time if he’s one step ahead of us, I’m prepared.
When we get to our street, Mani tries to run ahead, but I catch his hand in mine and pull him behind me.
“Me first,” I say. Even though we’re not yet at the deadline, there’s always a chance someone could be here waiting, and I want my body solidly between Mani and Gopal’s rage.
I slide the key into the lock and ease the door open.
My heart plummets.
The flat has been ransacked. Our drawers are gaping open like a mouth with missing teeth, and what few clothes we have are strewn about the floor. The mattresses are askew and the floorboards are ripped up. I know before I look that I won’t find the coins, but I check anyway—nothing. The money I’ve saved for years, the money that was going to save us, is gone.
Mani makes a strangled noise behind me. I follow his gaze and stop cold.
On the other side of the flat, Smudge is stretched out in a sticky puddle of blood. Her belly is sliced open from her chest to her tail, and her entrails spill onto the floor. Her paw rests on the corner of a blood-smeared note written in script large enough that I don’t even have to bend down to read it: Mani is next. We look forward to your compliance.
I grab Mani’s hand and pull him out of the flat so I can retch in the alley. I can’t stop gagging, even when there’s nothing left in my stomach. I press my back against the wall, gasping for air. I think of Smudge suffering—of her tiny mews of pain or fear—and I start to heave again. It takes me several minutes to catch my breath, and then the full weight of the note hits me. I need to get Mani out of here. Gopal must already know I defied him, and that means we’re out of time. I race back into the flat, grab a bag and fill it with as many clothes as it will hold. I wish that I could take the time to give Smudge a proper burial, but I don’t dare stay longer. I crouch down and rub my fingers between her ears just how she liked.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly as I stroke her fur. “I’m so sorry.”
Mani is sobbing silently behind me. “Bye, kitty,” he says, but he’s not looking at her. His face is pressed against my back, his tears soaking through my sari.
I stand up and sling my bag over my shoulder. “Come on, Mani,” I say. “Time to run.”
We sprint all the way to Gali Street. Now that we have no money and no supplies, it’s the only place I can think to go. Last week Japa told me I could come to him if things were ever bad. I hope he’s willing to keep his promise.
By the time we’re standing in front of the bookshop, Mani’s lips are blue. The shops have all closed, but I’m hoping Japa is still here. I haven’t been back since the day I was searching for Deven and found the CLOSED sign dangling in the window. For a sickening moment I worry that Japa never came back, that he’s gone forever. I hold my breath as I rap on the door, and when it finally opens, I sigh in relief. But as soon as I see Japa, I know that Deven has already been here. Japa is eyeing me warily and his whole face is turned down. It’s an expression I’ve never seen him wear before and it makes him seem years older. I swallow hard. “I’m in trouble.”