Amala stood up and went to the window, where she looked out with distant eyes. “I remember him holding both of us close and sobbing. I’d never heard him cry like that—not before or since.” She sighed loudly. “Within a few days we were on our way to England, taking very little with us. The journey was long and . . . I think we were all dazed and shocked.” Following a long moment of silence, she turned to look at Henry and concluded, “And here we are. I’ve now lived more than half of my lifetime in England. I could never bring myself to go back to India, even if I could think of a reason to consider doing so. I was too young to begin to understand the complicated politics going on with one country attempting to rule another, and that country being divided in and of itself. I still don’t understand; I don’t want to. I’ve chosen to focus my memories of India on its beauty and uniqueness in contrast to where I live now. There are things I choose to never think of. When such thoughts jump into my mind, I just force them away. Whatever sacrifices I might make to be an Indian woman living in England are nothing compared to what life might be like for me there. Even if I could live there with some sense of safety and security—which I could not, given that I have no relatives or connections—I would never want to be that close to the memories of what happened. I could never even pass a British soldier on the street without being reminded, and they were everywhere.”

“And yet you live here among the British people.”

“It’s different,” she insisted, but didn’t expound.

“I don’t even know what to say, Amala. I never would have guessed; never could have imagined.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” she told him. “But I’m glad you know.”

“How can you tell me that story without shedding a tear?”

“I’ve cried an ocean of tears over it, Henry. I believe I’ve healed inside as much as it’s possible for a human being to do so. I accept what happened for what it is, and I try every day to be grateful for all that I’ve been blessed with.”

“You are more brave and strong than I think you will ever be able to see for yourself.”

She laughed softly. “I don’t know about that. I’m just . . . trying to move beyond this horrible incident in my past. Every day I am one day further away.”

“You said you accept what happened for what it is. May I ask exactly how you define what it is?”