She had spent the afternoon studying at the Jaffna Public Library. When she walked out, the soldiers were waiting for her at the gates. She walked quietly but not calmly with them across the road to the police station. The last thing she saw before the door shut, entombing her in silence, was the silhouette of the old Dutch fort. In a previous incarnation it had housed their colonial masters, serving as a seat of administration and even a prison. Now the army was using the fort; its ramparts were still solid and capable of fending off the attacks everyone knew were coming.

She sat in a small metallic room under the shadow of that magnificent stone structure, straining to hear the chaos she knew must be outside; a sound that would connect her to life beyond the room. Esplanade Street was always so noisy, so full of people rushing about. She was usually one of them.

She wondered whether the soldier would notice if she raised her hand to wipe away the moisture under her nose. It was starting to distract her. She was relieved to have something else to think about. But she didn’t want him to see that she was afraid.

Fear had its own tone, she thought, as she listened to her voice answer the questions that were fired at her.

‘What were you doing at the medical clinic in Tellippalai?’ the soldier asked. She had been seen at the village clinic. He had dates and times and a list of her colleagues there.

‘I was running a vaccination clinic. It’s part of Jaffna Hospital’s public health programme.’

‘Public health?’ he asked, sounding a little more sympathetic.

‘Yes, public health, we have WHO funding to vaccinate children,’ she replied, praying that he would have compassion for her project, for her.

‘WHO? We don’t need foreign meddling,’ he replied flatly. ‘What is the real purpose of your work in Tellippalai?’

She had completely lost track of time and, without a window, she didn’t know how long she’d been there. She had a lot of stamina, she knew she did. But this was different. She was exhausted already and this was only the beginning.

‘The real purpose?’ she repeated. Her mind scrambled over words; she didn’t understand anything anymore. She licked her lips again.

‘Yes, the real purpose,’ he said, not changing his voice. He walked around the desk casually, to stand in front of her. Then he slapped her hard across the face.

‘I—I was there for the vaccination clinic,’ she repeated, tasting blood, ‘for children, WHO—’

He slapped her again, harder this time. As he left the room he said to her, ‘I’ll be back in a moment.’ His voice was still quiet and surprisingly polite.

‘Thank you,’ she said. Thank you? What an odd thing to say.