Diya

I close my eyes and I kiss him. I know it is the last thing I am going to do. I am going to die, and it is the right thing to do. We both go very still. We wait. Lips just touching, hearts hammering. Waiting.

And then I hear Salim’s voice. He’s calling my name. My real name. He sounds like he is right beside us. I go rigid in shock.

I break apart from Kabir. How is he here? How does he know? How does he know?

‘Come on, Surabhi. I know who you really are. I found an ID lying on the floor. And I know who you are.’

The identity card I had shoved into my churidar. He’s very close. He’s found our discarded clothes. He’s found it. It has my father’s name on the back. He knows who I am.

‘GOD IS GREAT,’ his voice sounds as if he is standing right beside us. ‘I asked God to give me something to get my people out of here,’ he shouts. ‘And he gave me you.’

‘Run,’ I whisper. ‘We have to run!’

But we don’t run. We back away from the voice as carefully as we can, making no noise. Breathlessly we move away, then faster and faster. Away from that voice that is shouting my real name.

We duck down different aisles. Then we spot the toilets ahead of us. Kabir pulls open the closet that holds the brooms. We both squeeze in and shut the door. Through the slits in the door, we can see the bathroom. Nothing moves.

We can hear Salim, but he is heading in another direction. He is shouting my name. ‘Come out,’ he says. ‘I won’t harm you. I swear it. You’re too valuable to hurt. You and I are going to walk out of here together. Come on.’

Kabir puts his lips against my ears. ‘Who are you?’ he asks.

I can’t lie any more. I have to tell him. ‘My name is Surabhi Thakur. My father is Bhai Thakur.’