“You can return later—or we’ll send someone else when things calm down.” He had assured her that the organization was having a conversation at the highest levels of the Dutch government about bringing Noor and the others to the Netherlands.
Shanti had felt relieved.
She’d sent Pauline a quick text message telling her that she might not be able to make it to the camp tomorrow and to cancel her appointments with her witnesses for the day. She couldn’t help but feel that she was letting the other witnesses down, but she was in danger if she remained in Bangladesh. Besides, she wasn’t going home empty-handed. She had several witness interviews. More than that, she had proof that Naing had commanded the massacres.
That was more than she’d hoped for when she’d come here.
She brushed her teeth and drew down her sheets, but hesitated when it came to turning off the light, images from the videos flashing through her mind.
Screams. Crying babies. Women stripped naked.
Think about something else. Think about … Connor.
Well, that wasn’t hard. Six foot plus of male perfection.
She turned off the light, lay back on her pillow, remembering how it had felt to be in his arms. She’d been too upset at the time to truly appreciate it, but she could remember how hard his body had felt, how he’d stroked her hair, how his voice had rumbled in his chest. She could get used to that.
Yeah, well, don’t. You’re leaving.
She was going back to The Hague. That meant she would be saying goodbye to him. She lived in The Hague, and he lived in Colorado. She wouldn’t see him again—a sad thought.
She began to drift.
But it wasn’t thoughts of Connor that followed her into sleep, but the screams of women and the laughter of soldiers.
Screams.
Gunshots.
Blood.
The houses were burning! She could see people inside—women and children. Where was Noor? Was she trapped inside, too?
Shanti ran toward Noor to set her free but stopped.
Heads. There were heads on the ground. She couldn’t step on them.
One of them rolled and rolled, coming to rest near her feet.
And she saw.
It was her grandfather’s face, his lifeless eyes staring up at her.
Shanti screamed.