Zan’s eyes were still red with the residue of the pictures he’d seen in the interrogation room. When they finished telling him he was scum, they asked him to turn traitor, to sign documents that gave them access to his father’s accounts. ‘It’s not like you’ve got a choice, is it? We are your lord and master.’ And it was then that something snapped, something tiny and inconsequential, something not worthy of note to anyone else but to Zan. Every man has a limit. If pushed hard enough he will either make a leap, fulfil his potential and become the thing he is meant to be, or else stumble to his knees and crawl. If the heat is high and the pressure pronounced, the result can be kundan, the purest kind of gold. As the officers poured scorn and stress on Zan in the hope of breaking him, they unknowingly flipped the switch that would make him the next Khan. Hunched and crumpled in the hard plastic seat, he began to straighten up, and leaned back in his chair. ‘Yes, alright, I’ll do it.’ he said. The men smiled. They pushed over the necessary paperwork and handed him a pen. He took both and then met their gaze.

‘I’ll sign. But first you need to bring me the man who burned my aunt and my cousins alive. Then bring in the policeman who assaulted me. Then go and get every racist who stops someone like me and my father getting on in life, from moving on to the next level, from taking what is due to us, from getting a place at a good university, from finding a job that’s slightly better than cleaning your shit, from setting our minds free from the sense of inferiority you’d have us believe in. Then, and only then, will I give you all the information you need.’

The switch threw the men. They’d been cocky and they’d been arrogant, and in playing games, they had run out of time. The budding law student knew his rights and he knew how long he could be held without charge. He had played them, and now they had no choice but to release him.

Back home, sitting with Jia, Zan had clarity. He knew what he had to do. ‘I’m not going to take the place at Oxford,’ he told her. ‘I’ve spoken to Baba already. I know he wanted to keep us away from his line of work and I respect him for it and love him even more now I know what that means, but I need to stay and help with the family business.’

‘What? No! We should get as far away from here as possible! Why don’t you understand that?’ Jia said.