Sunil rose to his feet. “Come on, narc,” he said to her. “I’ve got some pills for you to confiscate.”

Kavita wanted to reprimand him then, for making light of their terror. But fear kept her expression placid. As they descended the stairs to his basement bedroom, the connective tissue that held her knees together felt slackened, overstretched. Kavita gripped the railing like a crutch. While he fetched the pills, she stood outside his bedroom, not peering inside, not giving him a reason to withdraw. He needed to feel safe, in control—with his condition, control was essential. That much, at least, Kavita understood about his condition.

Sunil emerged from the doorway and swung a white plastic bag at her. “Trick or treat?”

“Not funny.” Her hands felt weak as she caught the bag. “Is that all of them?”

“You want to search my room?” He meant it as a joke, but could probably tell from the look on her face, Kavita was considering it. “That’s all of the them, okay, Little One? Don’t you trust me anymore?”

“Of course I do.” But the truth was, part of her couldn’t, not yet. “You know I have to ask.” She hesitated for a few seconds. “Sunil, are you sure you don’t want to see the doctor now? Why not get it over with? I’ll be right there with you. Come on, let’s just jump in the car and go.” As she watched his face closely, the panicked look she had seen earlier charged his features again.

“So, you don’t trust me.”

“N-no, I do. I just … I don’t know what to do. I’m scared. I want to help you and I don’t know how.”

“Then listen to me,” he said. “That’s what I would have done for you.”

“Sunil—”

He started walking towards his room. “I’m going to bed.”

“Let me know if you need anything, okay? I’ll be right over there.” She pointed behind her, to the orange and brown velvet couch in the family room. She wouldn’t sleep that night. Instead, she planned to sit vigil until morning, within earshot of Sunil’s bedroom, monitoring access to the front door, just to be on the safe side.

“You’re staying over?”

“Where else would I be?”

He gave her a faint half smile. “I’ll leave my door open.” A second later, she heard the creak of bed springs.

Acting quickly, she rushed to the bathroom and started flushing the sleeping pills, while keeping an eye on the stairs. As she emptied the last bubble pack, she felt as though she were diffusing dozens of little bombs that would have destroyed them.

Then she called Nirav from her cell.

“Don’t tell me,” he said. “I’ve won an all-inclusive trip to Jamaica!”

It was a game they played sometimes, especially in the afternoons, when each of their cubicles felt particularly prison-like.

“Niru—”