The man approached her slowly, working hard to appear casual. She tried not to smile. This was a random encounter; one stranger with another. He stopped a few feet away and sat against the stone wall, near her but not next to her. He looked different. He had shaved; the skin on his cheeks was much lighter and smoother than the skin on his nose and forehead. He wore a simple checked shirt, slacks and leather slippers. She was used to seeing him in his stained medical coat and torn trousers. He put his mobile phone to his ear, as though making a call.

‘It’s good to see you, Dhara,’ he said.

‘You too, Suren. You look well. You’ve been eating and bathing for a change,’ she said.

‘You too,’ he laughed, his eyes straight ahead.

‘What are you going to do?’ she asked. A crow landed on the wall between them, its feathers shone like oil on black water.

‘I’m leaving. The CID wants to see me next week. They’ve questioned some of the others already.’ He looked around nervously.

‘I know. I met Vigna and Kuhan yesterday. The CID released them as long as they agreed to recant their testimony,’ she said. Vigna and Kuhan had been with them in the No Fire Zone. Together they had sent a stream of reports detailing the thousands dead, urgently begging the government to allow medical supplies in and the injured out. The government had refused.

‘How were they?’ Suren asked.

‘Afraid. They looked afraid. They’d been beaten but wouldn’t admit it. They were held for almost a week.’ She spoke without judgement. She was afraid of the Criminal Investigation Department too. ‘They’ve been told to give a press conference with the others. They’ll say they exaggerated their reports; that the Tigers forced them to lie.’

‘What are you going to do, Dhara?’ he asked, looking at her directly now. ‘I can help you leave. My family has contacts at the German embassy. That’s where I’m going. Come with me.’

‘Come with me,’ she echoed.

‘I’m serious, Dhara. If you don’t recant you know what will happen to you. I know it’s important to you, to tell the truth—it’s important to all of us that people know what happened. But is it worth dying for? When the CID takes you, agree to their demands. Say whatever they want you to say. Call me. Or call my brother if I’ve already gone. He’ll help you. I’ve emailed you his details, please keep them.’

He had tears in his eyes. ‘Please Dhara,’ he said softly. ‘There was so much death … back there—wouldn’t it mean more if we lived?’