“Don’t worry, Ms. Lahiri. We all know you’ve been through something terrible.”
It had been terrible, and yet this was harder.
We call it re-entry… When the adrenaline wears off, that’s when the nightmares and the self-doubt set in.
She understood now—or at least she thought she did.
Was he suffering, too?
God, she missed him.
Despite the nightmares and headaches, she pushed herself, one goal in mind—to see Naing arrested and behind bars so that the killing could stop.
After two weeks of this—headaches, nightmares, sorting through images of rape and murder—she found herself at an emotional edge.
“Maybe you’re not ready to be back at work. I want you to see a doctor,” Bram said one day when he’d caught her at her desk, in tears and rubbing her temples.
“I’ll see a doctor when we get the warrant,” she told him.
Finally, on the last day of September, Shanti stood in front of the judge and presented the case that had nearly taken her life.
“Your Honor, for these crimes against humanity, the Office of the Prosecutor requests a warrant for the arrest of General Min Thant Naing.”
Judge Pekka Karvonen, a Finnish judge, didn’t hesitate. “Granted.”
The relief was so intense that Shanti had to grab onto the table.
Judge Karvonen wasn’t finished. “Ms. Lahiri, your commitment to this case has been outstanding. This court is aware of the great personal price you paid to be able to approach this bench and make this request. You are to be praised.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.”
Then the hearing was over.
There was cake and champagne in the prosecutor’s office, but Shanti didn’t feel up to celebrating, her headache so severe she thought her brain might explode.
“What’s wrong?” Bram asked.
“My head. I feel strange, and my vision… It’s disappearing.”
“We’re going. Come.”
He took her in an official ICC limo to the ER, where they diagnosed her with a migraine and post-concussive syndrome, gave her pain medication, and sent her home with strict orders to rest and stay off the computer for the next few weeks.
“You need to take care of yourself now,” Bram told her on the drive to her apartment. “You’ve done enough.”
Shanti’s last thought as she drifted into a drug-induced sleep was of Connor.
Connor clearedthe breakfast table and helped his mother with the dishes.
“Thanks, hon.” His mother wiped the counter, started the dishwasher. “It’s sure been nice having you home.”
“It’s been good to see you, too.”
Three weeks was the longest he’d been home since he’d joined the army. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected when he’d come here or even why he’d come. If he was looking for something, he sure hadn’t found it.
Still, it had been nice to see his mother, to hang with his old man, his brother, Ryan, and his sisters, Kate and Tara, and their kids. He’d helped his father with the farm work, the physical exertion burning off some of his restlessness. But it hadn’t made him forget Shanti.
His phone buzzed with a message from Corbray.