The Public Security team seemed confused as they gazed back and forth from Jiao to the drifting plumes of smoke but leapt to action as Jiao turned with a shrill cry. “Those who did this are guilty of sabotage of a national security project!” he shouted to the knobs and pointed back up the slope. “Arrest every Tibetan you find! The charge is treason! If they resist, you must shoot them!”

Choden met them as they landed on the flat outside of Yangkar and drove Shan and the colonel into town, parking behind the station then awkwardly motioning them toward the guest quarters behind the station. A freshly scrubbed and subdued Kami met them inside the door and, with nervous glances at her mother and Amah Jiejie, escorted them toward a neatly laid luncheon table adorned with a vase of mountain heather.

They ate a pleasant meal together, with Amah Jiejie carefully leading the conversation away from criminal conspiracies, and Kami behaved surprisingly well, edging toward mischief only once, when Shan saw her surreptitiously making a small rice ball. He saw her eyeing the colonel across the table, as if gauging the trajectory, and he gently pushed her hand down, knocking the ball from her grip as he did so. She wrinkled her nose at him but then smiled and attacked a pickled radish.

Kami dutifully rose when Meng asked her to help with the dishes, which went back into the box brought from Marpa’s café. Shan studied the girl, seeing more than once the intense curiosity behind her defiant eyes, the high cheeks of her mother, and the long fingers that seemed reminiscent of Ko’s. Surely this could not be true, an inner voice kept telling him, surely this energetic little creature could not be his own flesh and blood, surely he could not have a family. He was too old, his life was too unstable, his work too dangerous. He had to find a way to tell Meng she must leave, that he would help support Kami but there could be no life for them in Yangkar. He rose and excused himself, saying he had to check the station.

Shan walked through the building and out into the square, which was thankfully empty. He sat on the ground in front of the Buddha, legs crossed under him, and stared into the eyes of the ancient granite statue. He did not know how long he was there, was not aware of a presence beside him until the child’s voice broke the silence.

“What are we doing?” Kami asked. She was seated a foot away, mimicking his posture.

“Speaking to the god,” Shan said.

“No, we’re not,” the girl disagreed. “I would have heard you.”