Moni’s skin prickled. Typical of Iman: blunt and casual. But all the more reason to trust in her sincerity. Moni felt that she had been given a gift. The last of her negative feelings towards Iman evaporated. Iman would not make this up. It must be true. He did look like Adam. Past the disability, there was a resemblance, and yet most people couldn’t see past the disability. It was too big, too glaring. And here was Iman, in her usual deadpan voice, matter-of-fact, just like that. Delight and greed made Moni turn to Salma. Made her ask, ‘What do you think, Salma? Does he look like Adam?’ She wanted Salma’s endorsement too, to seal the likeness, to make it official. But Salma had not seen the little boy and now it was too late, he had already stepped back from the shore, out of sight, and their boat trailed on.

Never mind, thought Moni. Another time, another day. One could not be disagreeable within this tranquillity. She brushed away at the wasps that circled Iman’s head but didn’t circle hers.

Iman dangled her arm outside the boat. Her fingers caressed the water. Such a busy world down there. She hummed a song for the dolphins, but if they came too close it would alarm Salma, so she sang softly instead.

Salma could row without getting tired. She was stronger today than yesterday. She turned her head and glimpsed the blur of red. There he was, jogging through the trees, alongside the bank, but she could row faster than he could jog.

Iman caught a glimpse of the man in the red T-shirt. Mindful of what she was and wasn’t wearing, she hid herself behind Moni.

‘We will soon lose him,’ Salma said. ‘He won’t catch up with us.’

By the time Moni turned, the jogger was already far behind. She didn’t even see the colour of his clothes.

Are you running after me because I ran after you the other day? You will catch me only when I want to be caught, that is, if I want to be caught. I can run as fast as you can run. I am lighter than you, stronger each day, leaner and quicker.

Later, Salma posted a selfie of them at the boat on the group page, the serene water around them, the purple mountains behind. Not all the comments were the mix of envy and approval she was seeking. The queries, ‘What happened? You couldn’t get to the grave?’ required explanation.