Amala took a deep breath. “While I can’t begin to understand all of the implications, I believe from the way my parents—those I have now—spoke of the incident, that there was perhaps some . . . scandal or controversy. For that reason, I ask for your confidence. I don’t believe any ramifications would come back to my family, but to be truthful, I’m not certain.”

“Of course, you have my strictest confidence in anything you share with me.”

Henry felt a little nervous as he watched Amala turn to smile at him briefly, expressing silent appreciation for his discretion. Then she looked straight ahead, giving him a view of her profile while she was clearly gathering her words and composing her emotions. He’d expected to hear that it had been an accident, or illness. Disease was prevalent in India; he knew that well enough. He had not expected the kind of preamble she had already given, nor the evidence that after all these years, speaking of their deaths was still so difficult. He’d lost his father at a young age, and the loss had torn him apart. But he could talk about it and not be so affected. He gave her hand another gentle squeeze of encouragement and patiently waited for her to speak.

“They were shot,” she said, “by British soldiers.”

Henry caught his breath but refrained from uttering the curse that came to his mind and nearly escaped his lips. He didn’t want to prevent her from saying whatever she felt inclined to tell him.

“They had been accused of treason, although I’ve been reassured by Oliver and Viola that it wasn’t true. But there was no trial, no opportunity given to prove their innocence. Soldiers came into our home and . . . shot them.”

Amala drew in a quivering breath and said more matter-of-factly, “Mata and Pita both worked for the Hepworths, who were among the few Britishers who treated the Indian people with respect. Whenever Mata and Pita were at the Hepworth home, I was there with them.”

Henry liked the way she referred to her blood parents by an Indian version of the words for mother and father, and how it distinguished them from the people she had come to call her parents. He also appreciated that he actually knew the words well from his own time spent among Indian people. He felt increasingly comfortable with her, and his compassion deepened in regard to what he was hearing. Already he could understand why she would hold so much fear over the issue of prejudice and social barriers.