Andoh pulled back, appearing surprised at her apparent new willingness. He lifted his weight off her, freeing up her hands. Like a striking cobra, she jabbed her right index finger into his left eye socket hard and quick. He recoiled with a gasp of pain and fell back, his hand pressed over the left side of his face. Emma jumped up, nearly falling as she bolted for the door. The commissioner lay on the floor bellowing like a wounded cow. Run, she told herself. Run.

Without looking back or shutting the door behind her, Emma exited Andoh’s office into the dim, deserted corridor, along which ran open louver windows and mosquito netting. Outside, darkness had fallen.

She ran down the stairs. Most everyone had gone home, but one or two people coming up in the opposite direction gave her a curious look. The women’s bathroom on the second floor was open. She went into a stall, locked it, threw up in the bowl, and then leaned weakly against one wall. She was bewildered. Was this real?

Her hands were shaking as she tried to button up her blouse. She broke down, taking deep whooping breaths between each cycle of sobs.

“Hello?” a woman’s voice said from the other side of the door.

Emma held her breath to stop crying, but small whimpers still escaped her throat. The woman knocked on the stall door gently. “Are you okay?”

“I’m, I’m fine,” Emma stammered.

“What’s wrong? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Emma struggled to lighten her voice. “No, madam, everything is fine. It’s just . . . well, I’ve received some bad news. A relative has died.”

“Oh,” the woman said, sounding like she didn’t believe it. “Can I help you somehow? It seems like you’re hurt.”

“No, no please, I’m all right.”

The woman was silent for a moment. “All right,” she said finally. “Take care, okay? And I’m sorry for what happened.”

“Thank you, madam.”

The woman left. As warm as it was in the uncooled bathroom—none had air conditioning—Emma began to shiver so violently it frightened her.

Now, she wanted to leave, but she was terrified she might bump into Andoh coming down the stairs. Briefly, she began to cry again, but then she pulled herself together. She had to get out of here. Tiptoeing to the bathroom door, she opened it slightly and listened for a long time. Nothing—no footsteps. The commissioner had likely departed.

Go now, she told herself.

She flew down the steps, almost tripping at one point. When she got to the ground floor, she half ran to the security gate, but slowed down as she got there in order to look somewhat normal.

“Good night,” she said to the sentry with forced cheerfulness.

He responded with a disinterested nod. The sentries were never particularly friendly.

Emma stood at the side of Ring Road East feeling paralyzed and unreal. She was barely aware of the rush of evening traffic, the tro-tro mates yelling out, and the buzz of pedestrians making their way home.