The doctor discharged Jia after the scan. She was ready to answer police questions, but the arrival of Mark Briscoe put her on edge. ‘I know you’ve had a long day,’ he said, ‘but, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to accompany me to the station. There are a few things that need clearing up.’

Though they were on friendly terms these days, Jia still didn’t fully trust the chief of police. But she agreed to go. The adrenaline rush had worn off, leaving her exhausted, and she wanted to get this over with fast. Elyas walked her to the police car, acutely aware that sirens and ambulances had been involved the last time Jia had been carrying his child, and that he’d lost her then. ‘I’ll call you when I’m done,’ she told him.

‘I’ll be waiting,’ he said, as he watched the car drive away.

It was late evening when she finally rang Elyas from the police station. She knew he’d be waiting by the phone, but that wasn’t why she’d called him. She wanted to tie up loose ends, return life to a kind of simplicity. The gates of Pukhtun House were swarming with news reporters when they arrived, so Elyas suggested they go to his place. She agreed.

They climbed the stairs of the building in silence, both too tired to speak. And when he brought her a cup of tea he found her asleep on the sofa. So he covered her in a blanket and sat down alongside her, watching her breathe, afraid to touch her in case he broke the spell.

She awoke to find him snoring, the TV tuned to some late-night shopping programme. His eyes closed, his face emptied of worry, he looked younger, almost like the boy she had married, and she was compelled to lean in. He smelt like stale cigarettes and the aftershave she had bought him for his birthday the first year they were together. She kissed his cheek. He tasted like her youth and the years she could never revisit. She kissed his lips in the hope that time would roll back, that she would open her eyes and find herself innocent again, just shy of three decades of life, that his kisses would somehow cleanse her soul and set her free. Maybe it was the years of separation and the secrecy accompanying the rekindling of their relationship that brought a sense of newness to each time she was with him. Whatever it was, she knew it had to be fleeting; she was surprised by its having lasted this long.

He reciprocated, tasting her lips as if they were ripe fruit, opening his mouth wider and wider, extending the promise of passion he’d made her years earlier.