LM: I’ve heard that Kaavi might be in trouble. Please tell me what I can do to help.

EP: Thank you, Miss Malalasekara. Could you please state your name and address for the record?

LM: My name is Lakshi Malalasekara and I live at 56 Jayanthi Mawatha, Pita Kotte.

EP: And you work at Miss Fonseka’s charity organization. Is that correct?

LM: Yes, ma’am. I work as a senior project coordinator at Pink Sapphires. I joined as an intern three years ago, was hired as a permanent employee within three months, and received my latest promotion last May.

EP: How well did you get to know Miss Fonseka in this time?

LM: Kaavi was always a welcoming boss. Even when I was an intern, she spent so much time with me, showing me the ropes and encouraging me to make decisions for myself. She’s truly an inspiration. You should see the way she encourages women. I’ve even seen her advise the girls in the program—coaching them through insecurities, giving them a voice. I always knew I wanted to work in this field—you know, helping others. But Kaavi really gave me a direction. So much of who I am today, I owe to her.

EP: So you would say you were close?

LM: [Short laugh] Well, she was my boss. But we had a good relationship, of course.

EP: Did she confide in you about her own problems?

LM: Well, how many problems could a woman like Kaavi have? She would tell us when she got stressed-out with work, I suppose. It was a struggle sometimes, working with her family. It would be for anyone, though, wouldn’t it? She rarely saw eye to eye with her sister, Tehani, but she never spoke badly about her or anything. I mean, Kaavi worked directly under her father. Mr. Fonseka had even handed over a significant part of the business duties to her, so Kaavi was as good as the boss. I don’t think Tehani liked that much.

EP: In what way?

LM: Oh, you know, just the usual sister stuff. Kaavi’s, well, she’s perfect. Must have been hard to come second to that all the time. But it’s not like they hated each other or anything. Tehani would come by the Pink Sapphires office sometimes—Kaavi had her set up as an art mentor, to coach the girls interested in graphic design, and then she and Kaavi would chat and joke and all would be normal. Tehani even played a huge part in Spencer’s proposal. It’s a pretty sweet story, actually—Spencer knew he wanted to propose to Kaavi during the award ceremony. After all, working on the charity is what brought the two of them so close together, and it only seemed right. That’s what Kaavi told us all afterward. But of course, he needed to figure out a way to get onstage, right? He couldn’t just walk on up there, after all.

So he asked Tehani to help him, and she convinced Kaavi to invite him up onstage to thank him. I was in the office when Tehani asked her. Kaavi thought it was ridiculous at first. “I’ll thank him in my speech,” she said, “but doesn’t it defeat the purpose to invite a man up onstage to accept an award given to a woman?”

I remember thinking that she had a point.

But Tehani convinced her that it would be a nice thing to do, and I guess it worked because, well, you’ve seen the video, right?

EP: Did you know that Matthew Spencer was going to propose?

LM: Oh no, of course not. He spoke to me before the ceremony and asked me to personally make sure everything was recorded, but I thought that was just for her YouTube channel or footage for the charity, you know. I didn’t even imagine he would ask her to marry him.

EP: Did you know that they were a couple?

LM: Well, no one did. And you know what? I can understand. You know how it is in Colombo. We all keep our relationships a secret unless it ends in marriage. I do wish she would have told me though. I could have helped them. I know how difficult it can be to sneak around and keep things from our parents.

EP: Tell us about Matthew Spencer. How well did you know him?

LM: We all just call him Spencer. He’s been visiting our office very regularly now, and I’m sure you’ve heard about how much he has helped the charity. He’s very well-connected, you see, and quite rich too. He’s very generous, though, and has dedicated so much of his time to helping us. Kaavi was right in saying that Pink Sapphires would never be what it is if it weren’t for him.

EP: And what was his role in the charity?

LM: He helped set up the study-abroad program. He and Kaavi apparently had the idea when she met him in the US. She had gone back to California for her university reunion, I think, when they met. Anyway, Spencer would arrange for the girls to be introduced to leaders in various American companies who would then guide them and give them some insight into how the business runs and so on. We are hoping that this will lead to internships, and some companies have even mentioned offering scholarships to participants. As you can see, it’s not the typical opportunities that most girls in Sri Lanka would get, especially if their families can’t afford to spend on their education. We are so proud to have just sent off our first batch of girls.

EP: Did you notice anything strange about Miss Fonseka in the days leading up to her disappearance?

LM: Well, she did seem a little flustered at times, but that would be normal for someone planning a wedding, especially with a mother like hers.

EP: Could you elaborate further?

LM: I mean, well, not that Mrs. Fonseka is a bad person or anything. She’s just, well, she and Kaavi don’t often see eye to eye on most things. Kaavi never said anything, obviously, but I could tell from the way she would stiffen up whenever her mother mentioned marriage.

And I don’t think she really supported what Kaavi did. Mrs. Fonseka would never admit to it, of course—she’d never go against her husband that way—but I’ve heard her mutter things under her breath about Kaavi never being able to find a husband with the amount of time she worked. I think the horoscope reader had told her that Kaavi needed to get married by a particular date, or she’d never get married at all.

There was an incident on Kaavi’s birthday. Her father asked what her birthday wish was, and Kaavi said it was for the charity to grow so she could help more girls. That’s the kind of person Kaavi is—always thinking about others. But Mrs. Fonseka blew a fuse. She’s always a bit high-strung, but she was extra upset that day. Maybe because she remembered the horoscope deadline? Who knows? But she exploded in front of everyone that Kaavi needed to “settle down” before she “brought shame on the family.” Kaavi and Mr. Fonseka managed to smooth everything over, of course, and no one ever spoke about it again.

She was over the moon when Kaavi got engaged. There are even rumors around the office that this rushed auspicious date was less about the astrologer and more about Mrs. Fonseka worrying whether Kaavi would back out at the last moment.

EP: And would Kaavi back out?

LM: I don’t think so. Why would she? Spencer is the perfect guy. But I’ll tell you one thing: Mrs. Fonseka would rather commit murder than have Kaavi walk out on this wedding.

[Pause]

Oh gosh, that was a horrible thing to say. I didn’t mean it like that, you know. I really do hope Kaavi is okay. Are there any updates yet?

EP: Not yet, Miss Malalasekara. Were there any discrepancies at the charity I should be aware of? Anything noteworthy that took place recently?

LM: Well, nothing significant, although Kaavi did mention that there was some issue with the accounts. This was about two months ago, I think. Anyway, she took it to finance, which doesn’t fall under Pink Sapphires, but Fonseka Jewellers as a whole. Those things were totally outside of our purview.

EP: You said that Miss Fonseka was always going out of her way to help girls through the charity. Are there any girls that she helped in an individual capacity? Perhaps those she formed an independent relationship with?

LM: I can’t think of anyone specifically, but she was always giving the girls advice, you know? They’d always be scared, at first. Scared to speak up. Scared to talk to men.

You understand that this is a normal thing for most Sri Lankan girls to feel—especially those from lower-income backgrounds. We aren’t supposed to even speak to boys, or look them in the eye, or ever talk for ourselves. We are brought up to be subservient. Maybe we could work in a garment factory or something, if we were lucky, but most of us are brought up to be wives and mothers, that is all. And then suddenly this entire new world is open to these girls, so of course they would feel scared.

Kaavi would give them a kind but stern talking-to, you know, to help them understand how important it was for them to learn and become independent. She helped everyone.

EP: Thank you, Miss Malalasekara. And the advice and guidance that Miss Fonseka gave out, did that extend to you too?

LM: Yes. Like I said, she was very generous. My parents never supported me working either. You see, everyone isn’t as lucky to have a father like Kaavi. My own wanted me to get married right after my A Levels, but I managed to put it off, telling him that I would do it after I finished my internship. But then I met Kaavi and realized how important it was that I become independent. She advised me a great deal about how to stand up to my parents.

EP: And did you finally get married?

LM: No. I am not on talking terms with my family anymore. I moved out of my house and live in a girls’ boarding.

EP: That must be a difficult change for you?

LM: Well, yes. My father was very angry, of course. But Kaavi taught me that my freedom was more important. Even though I’m struggling now to make ends meet—it is quite expensive, you know, paying boarding fees and living on your own—it’s still worth it to me.

EP: One of your colleagues mentioned you confided in her that you were rather bitter toward Miss Fonseka after you first left your family. Is there some truth to this?

LM: [Pause] Who told you this? Was it Danushka?

EP: I am not at liberty to say right now, Miss Malalasekara, but would appreciate it if you could answer the question.

LM: Look, I didn’t mean it. I was angry at the time, that’s all. I truly am grateful for everything that Kaavi has done for me. If it wasn’t for her I’d have been forced into some arranged marriage and stuck with babies by now. All I said to Danushka was that it was easier for Kaavi to talk about independence and push me to leave my family because she had such a comfortable life. Anyone can be independent if they have enough money in the bank. If they are from upper-class Colombo with plenty of connections and a foreign university degree. I’m not being bitter, I promise. I just think it’s not fair that she’s had it so much easier than everyone else.