The soldiers vanished into the street, running after the mob of Pengali, leaving behind a small figure on the ground. A Pengali youth, shivering and whimpering. Blood covered his back and ran onto the pavement. Daya took gasping breaths. Pain radiated from the youth and he had no idea why he could feel it, but he could, and the pain made him feel sick.
Daya couldn’t not do anything, even though he had not the faintest clue what to do. In his mind, he heard the screams of a baby. She’s going to die. He was a clumsy youth again; helpless, useless. That time, he had done nothing, except run faster, but the searing air had still burned her. She still had the scar.
He knelt next to the young Pengali male, shaking his shoulder. “Come, get up.”
The youth rocked to and fro, panting and clutchin
