It made sense. She was well cared-for here. Three meals a day. One of the wardens even found her an old pack of cards and taught her a new version of solitaire. She couldn’t say she had suffered.

“The time will pass very quickly, Stella. Take the chance to reflect.” His face beamed with pride and benevolence. She found herself smiling too, and then laughing hard.

•

Vanda came to pick Stella up on the last day, only weeks later. She stood in the awkwardly-shaped entrance hall, her suitcase at her feet. It felt like the last day of term. Almost Christmas time, almost 1988.

“Be careful what you say to journalists,” warned Cheng Mun, waiting with her.

“I won’t talk to journalists.”

“There’s no harm—of course people will be curious. But don’t tell them we mistreated you.”

“I’ll just say no comment.”

“If you say anything bad, it will affect the release of the others.” She didn’t ask what others. She no longer wanted to know. It made her feel a little better, knowing she was not the last to be released.

“What will you do?”

“I’m not sure.” She wondered if she would ever see him again. “I don’t think the teaching service will take me back.”

“That’s too bad. But you can’t take a chance where kids
are concerned.”

“Maybe I’ll give tuition. I’d like to travel—” She bit her tongue. The terms of her release prohibited her from leaving Singapore. He seemed not to notice.

“Look, here’s your mother.” And sure enough, Vanda was stumping bad-temperedly across the car park. She was wearing giant sunglasses, as if afraid of being recognised. “Goodbye, Stella,” said Cheng Mun. “Don’t be a security threat in the future.” Was that a joke? She didn’t know if she should laugh, and compromised by smiling vaguely. He shook her hand very gallantly and helped carry her suitcase down the stairs.

Vanda continued to be grumpy as she started the car. “Had to cancel my hair appointment,” she muttered. “And now I’ll have to wait another week. I’ll look like a fright at the Wongs’ party this Sunday.”

“Thank you for coming, anyway.”

“No joke. I almost told them to keep you in there another night. Why don’t they give more notice? Calling me this morning, saying come get you.”

“That’s how they do things. We knew it would be around this time.”

Vanda wasn’t listening. Her brow furrowed as she negotiated a badly parked van. The car slipped through a gate, which slipped shut unobtrusively behind them. They turned a corner, and suddenly they were on a busy road. It was early, probably the dregs of rush hour. And there they were, two women in a car, going home.