“Why is she wearing a school blazer?” he asks, his voice gruff.
“She wanted to look like one of the girls,” I say.
And I stop there. I can see he already figured that out when he started to ask the question. And he knows why. That she sacrificed herself to draw out the ADS shooter; to help our snipers take him out before the police forced the girls outside.
Sunil reaches into his jacket pocket, pulls out his detective badge, and throws it onto the ground with such frustration that it bounces twice before settling into the dust. Then he turns around and looks at the special forces police team standing by, surrounding the girls, uncertain of the next move.
He groans, tiredly, and goes over to pick up his badge, smearing the dust away. Then he lifts the badge above his head and trudges toward the girls and the police.
“I am Detective Patel,” he says. “I am issuing a warrant for the arrest of the police commissioner. These girls will remain under my guard now.”
30
THE FAMILIAR TAP OF KIT’S nails on my bedroom door is followed by her immediate entrance. She’s stopped waiting for me to invite her in, possibly because recently, I haven’t.
“Hey, Jess,” she says to me. In her hand is a steaming cup. Twig-like bits of tea leaves float aimlessly on the surface. She places the tea gingerly on my bedside table, sits down on my bed, and strokes my hair back off my face.
“Drink this. It’s good for your nerves.”
“Do you really think so?” I mutter. My tone is cynical, harsh, but I can’t help it.
“How are you feeling today?” Kit tries.
I take a breath and force myself to say what she wants to hear. “Better.”
There, that wasn’t so hard, and Kit’s face lights up. She gets up and pulls open the shutters, bathing me in gray light from a cloudy London sky.
“More rain today,” she comments conversationally. Like that’s somehow news when you live in Britain.
Kit responds to my silence by flipping on the TV in my room. Then she pushes at me to move over in the bed and lies down next to me. It’s the news channel. In silence, we watch a political piece that isn’t of much interest to either of us.
“Do you want this?” Kit says, pointing at the tea. When I shake my head, she picks it up and sips at the hot liquid herself. Feeling stifled suddenly, I lever myself up, walk through to the bathroom, and brush my teeth.
“Glad you’re getting ready,” Kit calls. “We need you back at Athena today.”
I come back into the bedroom and wave my toothbrush at her.
“I’m on leave,” I point out.
Kit consults her watch for the date.
“I think you’ll find it’s been three weeks,” she says. “Shower and dress. I’ll drive you to the tube. There’s an update meeting in the situation room at ten.”
People complain about public transport, but when it works, which is a decent part of the time, it’s so much faster than fighting through the morning traffic edging its way into the City of London. Kit and I cannot be seen traveling together to Li’s building. So while Kit drives down to the parking lot deep under the building, I take public transport to Athena’s headquarters, then follow the rear entrance.
Inside the elevator, I hesitate. To move upward, I just need to look at the floor I want and blink twice to choose it. There’s half an hour to spare till our meeting time. Usually, I might spend that time going up to the tech cave and hanging out with Amber. But I don’t know how to face her after what happened. They all know I became close to Riya in Mumbai. I decide I can’t deal with it now—the concern and pity. So, I choose the main Athena floor, where the situation room is located. I can wait there quietly until the meeting starts.
But as the doors open to let me out, Amber is right there, waiting for a ride back to the tech cave.
“Jessie!” she says. She hesitates. “Good to have you back.”
“Thanks,” I reply, not really meeting her gaze.
Amber waits politely for me to exit. But I don’t. I’m not sure why. So, she steps into the lift and waits as the doors close. This would usually be my cue to make a joke or tease her about something, but my chest feels heavy and I can’t trust my voice. Glancing up, I find Amber’s eyes are on me, unflinching, kind, caring. For this moment, it’s like she gets everything that’s going on with me, and then some. Before I know it, she steps across the elevator and grasps me in a hug. She holds me, without a word, until the elevator doors open at the tech cave, and only then does she let me go, with a final, gentle kiss on the cheek.
Suddenly brisk, as if she’s shaking off that unprecedented display of emotion, she walks out into the tech cave, and I follow. She puts on some music, calling over her shoulder, her voice unnaturally bright:
“I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed the past few weeks, without you driving me insane every five minutes.”
I give a half smile, my first in ages.
“You missed me,” I offer.
Amber spins to look at me. Her eyes hold their usual gleam.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she says. “Missing you would be like missing a toothache.”
I smile an acknowledgment, but she looks disappointed.
“What, no witty comeback? Your banter needs sharpening, I see,” she says. “And I imagine you’ve let your physical fitness go downhill too while you’ve been off.”
“I’m in decent shape,” I say.
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” she says with a small smile. “Now, if you can bear to stop distracting me, I need to get ready for the
