16
I overtake a silver people carrier driving at the speed of cold sludge. The truck's giving me no more than seventy, but at least we're making time as we roll downhill. The woman returns to her seat after tending to the girl.
"How's the kid?" I ask.
"She's stopped shivering.”
"That's a good sign, right?"
"I don't think so," the woman says. "How long?"
"Depends on traffic. Maybe twenty minutes. Then we've got to find the hospital." I look across at the woman. Dark circles frame her round brown eyes, as if she hasn't slept in days. "What's your name?"
"Amira." she says.
"I'm Charlie," I say, turning the wheel to overtake a red Nissan Micra.
"What happened earlier?" Amira asks.
"Two of your smugglers came for me. I had to sort 'em out."
"You're not one of them?" she asks.
"I'm j
