‘You’re not hungry now, but imagine if we went home tonight and all you got for dinner was an empty plate? You would be hungry then, wouldn’t you?’ She stroked his plump cheek, flushed from the nip in the air. ‘You are my world, Dayal. Whenever you feel sad, remember I said that, OK?’

Neena pushed the buggy back to the car and strapped Dayal into his car seat. It was only when she sat behind the wheel that she saw the parking ticket stuck to the windscreen.

EIGHT

Friday 24 November, 12:55

Neena arrived at the café and looked for Richard amongst the crowd. The air smelt of coffee and buzzed with the chatter. The window facing the street had fogged up from the heat of so many bodies crammed around each of the tables.

Neena spotted an empty table at the back of the room. She took off her coat and hung it on the back of the chair. Amongst the faces, she hadn’t seen anyone she knew. She had looked for people from her yoga classes and the old faces from home. Had she seen anyone connected to her family, she would have turned around and walked up the street to another location. She refused to give them anything that could hurt the ones she loved. Even after two years and everything they had done to her, she was still protecting them.

Neena looked inside her purse and shuffled the spare change. She didn’t even have enough for an espresso. A pair of women stood up from their table and walked towards the door. On the table were empty coffee cups and plates, with a bite left of some fancy pastry. It took every morsel of strength not to lean over and take it from the plate.

When she looked back, a woman had sat down in the chair on the other side of the table. She had long auburn hair and large sunglasses shielding her eyes. Even with the tinted glass, Neena could feel the woman staring at her.

‘Sorry, that seat’s taken. I’m expecting someone.’

The woman took off her sunglasses and revealed a large, purple bruise on her cheekbone. She looked down at the table.

Neena looked around the room, expecting to see an empty table where the woman had been. Maybe her husband had gone to the bathroom, and she wanted to confide in someone and ask for help. Or maybe whoever did this to her made her feel like she was alone, and she needed to talk to someone. Neena understood loneliness, and how people could change someone’s life forever if they were given enough power.

Neena took her hand. It was cold but soft. The nails were painted the colour of pink pearls.

‘Are you all right?’

‘I’m sorry to ambush you like this, but it’s for your own good.’