Her eyes went round and she looked up at him plaintively. “I'm not old enough for that.”
He groped for meaning, not wanting to understand, for to do so, he'd have to acknowledge both the severity of her circumstance and the likely course of her future. He didn't want to do either. “My name's Sharif,” he said. “Show me the road into Mumbai, and if you have the time, walk a ways with me. I don't know what you mean by 'that.' I don't even want to know what you mean by 'that.' All I do know is I want no part of 'that.' Let's go, eh?”
She pulled the jacket tight and stuffed the loose bills into a pocket. “I'm Thila, pleased to meet you.”
He shook hands, hers rough and calloused.
Thila turned away from the Sultan's road and followed a path between hovels that only she could see.
Mounds of s
