“They have to be clean, that’s why they all wear white. You make him dirty. How will it look, he’s up there making big speeches about the way forward for this country, and his wife’s cousin is sitting in jail for being a Communist. If he doesn’t make it in this election, there won’t be another one for four years. And if you’re still here then—”

“I won’t be.” But she might be. Her heart dropped within her at the thought. They could keep her here as long as they liked, hauling her to court every month to get an extension that no one doubted would come through. And all for what?

“My father doesn’t want anything to do with you. I can’t even tell him I came to visit. You know what he thinks about Communists. Only my crazy brother still supports you. He phoned. Says he can’t visit till he’s finished his PhD, though he hopes you’ll be out before that. But of course he’s in England, they can’t touch him.”

Janet’s eyes were pleading now. She was frightened, Stella realised. It was like when they were growing up, Janet the prefect, her tie always straight, terrified of getting into trouble with authority. “This isn’t just about you. We’re all involved now. Please, Stella. Do the right thing.”

•

She signed the paper in the end. Everyone signs the paper, sooner or later. What other choice is there? Nobody wants to spend the rest of their life in a dusty cell, not even a martyr, nor a symbol of resistance. What principle are you proving, when everyone’s forgotten you?

At first they told her to write out in her own words what had happened. After so much questioning, she was familiar enough with the desired narrative to reproduce it glibly. Two pages in, Cheng Mun told her to stop. “You can’t just say this happened, and then this happened—this can’t only be description. We need to feel you’re sincere.”

She nodded, and began again. It became easy, as if she were back in school, writing an English composition. The smell of the ballpoint pen, the thin lined paper, like an exam. She remembered the rules—have a beginning, a middle, and an end. Be sure to count the number of words. Don’t use words you can’t spell. Never end with “and then I woke up and it was all a dream”.

It took her two hours to get it all down. Cheng Mun snatched away each page as she finished it, and worked his way through it, his lips moving, nodding in approval. “Do I have to mention Jessica?” she asked, and he shook his head. Jessica was irrelevant, convenient only as a goad. She saw now how many weapons against herself she had unwittingly provided.

“Make sure you mention who was your mentor,” he interjected at one point. “Don’t try to protect anyone. How did you meet the other members of your conspiracy? Whose flat did you meet in? Be sure you include all these informations.”