“Like it?” he asks.
“Very cool.” I feel like I’ve seen a similar one recently. “Where’d you get it?” I ask.
“Caitlin gave it to me,” he says with a grin.
That makes me smile too. Caitlin has a stack of these and wears them herself once in a while. Now that she’s passing them around to certain handsome SEALs, I’ll have something to tease her with to pass the time at tonight’s stakeout.
We walk inside but before we get very far, Jaya herself ricochets out of her office and into the large foyer, bounding toward us.
“How wonderful to see you,” says Jaya, shaking hands all around. “I hope all is well?”
I assure her that everything is fine.
“How can I help you?” she asks, turning to lead us inside. Luca raises a hand to say goodbye and disappears back to his post. Not wanting to waste time, we both step in to walk beside Jaya. I nod to Riya to go ahead.
“It’s just routine, ma’am,” Riya says. “We have a couple of pictures to show you.”
“Not a problem,” says Jaya. “Let’s step into my study.”
Inside the office, the blinds filter out the harshness of the afternoon sun, but the room still feels cheerful. A couple of saggy armchairs look well used, and there’s a desk covered in paperwork, china cups, and biscuit packets. Jaya offers us tea, coffee, snacks—but we politely decline, eager to cross this task off our list and be on our way.
“What did you want to show me?” Jaya asks.
I hold out my phone and flick through the pictures of the two guys from the lab.
“Have you seen these two men before?” I ask. “Take your time.”
While Jaya peers them, I take in the walls of her snug office. They are covered in artwork made by the pupils, showing what they want to be when they grow up. Riya joins me and our eyes range over them. The scale of the girls’ ambitions makes us both smile. Some want to be astronauts, others scientists, doctors, explorers, songwriters. . . . For a moment, I feel—well, not pride, exactly—but appreciation. That Kit has offered these young women the chance to learn, to study, to aspire to be something in addition to wives and mothers. But inevitably, it sharpens the loss too, of the eleven girls who have had their lives and their dreams snatched away by Family First.
Jaya scoots behind her desk to retrieve wire-rimmed glasses, then she returns to study the pictures again.
“They do look familiar . . . ,” she says.
Riya shoots me a concerned look. “Are you sure?” she asks the headmistress.
Jaya sniffs, uncertain. But she keeps studying the photos. Before long, she gives a decisive snap of her fingers and looks up at us.
“I’ve got it. They’re the doctors. I didn’t recognize them without their white coats on.”
Tension floods through me. From Riya’s brisk, urgent tone I can tell she’s stressed too.
“What doctors?” she asks. “Where?”
“They came here. To both schools, in fact,” Jaya says, looking first at Riya and then at me.
“Why?”
“It was only for the vaccines,” she explains, keen to reassure us. “This was long before the attack. Maybe two weeks before . . . Here, let me look up the date. . . .” She bounces behind her desk and Riya follows, on top of her like a ton of bricks.
“Never mind the date right now. Please. What vaccines? Injections?” Riya demands.
“TD. Tetanus and diphtheria. There have been so many diphtheria outbreaks in the city that when they offered them to us, I decided it would be safer to get it done than risk the girls falling sick.”
Riya almost collapses on the desk, as if her legs have given way. Her gaze turns to me, and it’s filled with fear.
“Jessie?” she breathes as Jaya stares at her, then whips a questioning look over to me.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “We’ll figure this out.”
That’s what comes out of my mouth, but inside, I’ve hit full panic mode. Those men at the lab, the ones Jaya recognizes, are not doctors. Or if they are, they are not trying to make anyone well. Nor does it seem likely that they work for any legitimate vaccination clinic.
“I have to tell Sunil,” Riya says, her tone desperate. “He has them in custody. He can push them for information.”
“Someone please tell me what’s happening?” Jaya interrupts.
I look at her. “We have to get blood tests done on every one of the girls.”
21
JINGO’S HOME IS RELATIVELY MODEST for a man of his political stature; a compact, white bungalow with a decent-sized garden in the front. Palm trees and bushes fill every part of the yard except for a thin, paved pathway that leads down to imposing iron gates that separate the plot from the street itself.
The early-evening light is golden, the heat less intense than it was during the middle of the day—but I can’t enjoy it. I sit in our rental car, keeping an eye open for Jingo, and all I can think about is the schoolgirls. What was in those injections that the two lab goons put into them? It’s been nearly an hour since Caitlin arrived at the school to change places with me. Between them, she and Luca are watching over doctors from Ajay’s lab as they take blood samples from each girl for testing. They will rush the results, but every minute seems to drag as we wait.
“Cait?” I ask over our comms. There’s a brief pause before she responds.
“Jessie, we’re on it,” Caitlin replies patiently. “First batches of blood got back to the lab thirty minutes ago. They should have something for us soon.”
In the side mirror of the car, I watch Hala, far down the
