She could just take Nexus again, let her mind touch these kids. An image of a silvery vial came into her mind. A memory of the touch of Aroon’s mind, the magic of his young thoughts, the world a place of such vivid shapes and colors and surprises. The joy of vipassana when her thoughts were intertwined with the children’s.

Sam smiled. Maybe it was time.

Then she heard Shiva in her mind. Kill them. She saw Kevin swim into her target sights. Felt her own horror as she pulled the trigger to put the first burst into his face. Now it was Jake’s face, blood gurgling out as he coughed his last breath, and she’d killed them both.

Aroon yelled louder.

“I’ll take him,” someone said in Thai.

Sam opened her eyes. Sarai was standing in front of her, hands on Aroon.

“You have to let go,” Sarai said. “You’re holding him too tight.”

Sam blinked. She loosened her grip, and the girl took Aroon out of Sam’s hands.

She was breathing hard. Her chest was pounding.

“Shhhh…” Sarai said, her eyes closed, her lips brushing the top of Aroon’s head.

And the boy started quieting.

Tears filled Sam’s eyes, tears of loss and pain. She fought them back, smiled at Sarai with pride, forced her breathing to slow. This girl was amazing.

Sarai looked at her, over Aroon’s head.

“I miss you,” she whispered in Thai.

“Oh Sarai,” Sam said, her voice low. She stepped closer, put a gentle arm slowly around Sarai, doing her best to not jostle the infant. “I’m right here.”

Sarai smiled sadly. “It’s not the same.”

Aroon snuffled into Sarai’s shoulder, his sobbing growing quieter, weaker.

“Come back to us,” Sarai said, her eyes searching Sam’s face.

Sam’s heart was still pounding. She could see that silvery vial, could imagine downing it. She could see her bullets punch into the green outline of Kevin’s face, hear Jake’s last whisper. I wish I’d known you.

“I will,” she told Sarai, meaning it, squeezing the girl’s shoulder. “I will. I just need to heal a little first.”

“We can help you,” Sarai pleaded.

Sam smiled at Sarai, stroked the girl’s hair. “Sarai, I don’t think…”

I don’t think you should see the hole in Jake’s chest, she thought. I don’t think you should feel what I felt, then or now.

“I don’t think children should have to help adults heal,” she said. She smiled. “I think it should go the other way.

“But I am not going anywhere,” she said, looking into Sarai’s eyes. “And I will heal. And I will be back in here,” she tapped her temple, “with you again soon.”

She waited until Sarai nodded.