THAT night, after a leisurely, relaxing bath and early dinner, Sarah began reading Aryan’s book of poems. His work was impressive, intense, and deep, coming from such a young mind, with words that expressed feelings of yearning, tangible and real. She closed the book and sat for a long time thinking.

She still wasn’t sure Aryan should know the truth, but he was a smart boy and one day he may find out on his own. She took a deep breath and said to herself, “I will take this one careful step at a time.”

She hadn’t been home since her baby’s birth when she was sent far away. The stranger, a businesswoman, had taken her along the Essequibo River to Bartica. She owned a restaurant and Sarah was put to work just two days later in the kitchen and given a small space to sleep. But she could hardly eat or sleep and soon fell ill. The lady didn’t pay close heed to her but after her condition worsened, she took her to the hospital. A few days later, a social worker visited her after an alert nurse had made a report. When contacted, the woman told a convincing lie to save herself and Sarah was taken to a shelter.

That place had felt like a haven, where she had learned a few basic skills of cooking and craft, and she read books from the library to improve her knowledge. Six months later some Christian missionaries from the United Kingdom visited. It was the first time she had felt comfortable opening up and telling the story of her ordeals. It touched their hearts deeply and one middle-aged woman who had a school in the interior decided to give her a home, a new life, and a name.

For Sarah, it was like a Godly intervention.

The torn petals of a poor, sad young girl’s life were steadily blown away by a sharp gust of wind and she grew and bloomed as Sarah.
The time was now right to face the living demons of her past, so the dark memories could be obliterated from her mind.
A few days off were extended to all the teams before they returned to the military base and Sarah used that opportunity whilst awaiting approval on a week’s leave. She first visited her old home with two of her closest batchmates under the pretext of being charitable workers. Not knowing who was living there and what the situation was, she had to take that caution. She hardly had any fond memories of home and often wondered about her two brothers and sister.

The old wooden house had been replaced by a new flat concrete house.
“Oh, they seem to have done well over the years,” she mused, “But I wonder where that kind of money came from,” she remarked disdainfully.
No one was home except for a retired caregiver who was there to take care of the mother.

She had apparently suffered a stroke a few years ago.
As Sarah looked at her, she could feel no pity for the woman who had chosen money over her daughter. Nevertheless, she spoke with her for a while, maintaining her cover and not wanting her to know who she was.
After a long pause, the mother said …, “Ah praying f-fuh meh sins.”
“What sins?”

“Wah m-meh do meh big daughta.”
Sarah smiled wryly and said nothing, satisfied to hear that she had realized her wrongs.
She got up to leave and her mother called faintly, “Reshma.”

Sarah turned around and saw tears streaming down her mother’s face, “Ah been waiting fuh de day when as coulda see yuh again and tell yuh sorry fuh all de suffering ah cause yuh.”
That was when Sarah felt a dormant emotion awaken within her and she smiled and nodded a little, “Reshma forgives you.”
This was a woman who did not deserve to be forgiven but at the end of the day, she was still a mother who could have recognised her child. It was now one of the dark memories Sarah could erase from her mind and she exhaled in relief as she left the house.

“Where to now?” her friends asked.
“A top-class restaurant in the city.”
The restaurant was one of several business entities owned by Mrs. Malhotra, her ex-mistress.
The place was almost filled but they managed to get a table in a corner with a garden backdrop of colourful bougainvillaea. It was a nice place with rustic décor, tones of brown, gold, and copper, soft music, and warm lights. As they waited on a server to take their orders, Sarah glanced around, recognising a few ladies who sometimes attended socials at the house. Mrs. Malhotra herself wasn’t there but halfway through lunch, she walked in, still as beautiful, with an air of sophistication. Sarah glanced her way once or twice as she spoke with a few diners, and as Sarah and her friends were looking at the dessert menu a familiar voice said, “Hello, ladies.”

“Hi,” they responded at her engaging smile but when she looked at Sarah, her face turned a little pale. She recovered quickly and said, “Just want to welcome you to my restaurant and hope you had an enjoyable meal.”
“We did, thank you.”
She turned to move on, paused, and looked back at Sarah.
“You have a remarkable resemblance to someone I knew.”

“Oh,” Sarah responded with a casual smile, “It’s a common thing in the world.”
“Her name was Reshma.”
Sarah stayed composed though goosebumps has risen on her skin and she responded just as casually, “My name’s Sarah, a rank in the army.”
“Oh,” Mrs. Malhotra reacted surprised, “You certainly can’t be her then.”

Sarah smiled at her, acknowledging.
“It’s strange, the road life takes us down,” Sarah said to herself, lying in bed that night, “Because I was a poor maid she thought I couldn’t have become someone better.”
The next morning she sent a review to Aryan on his book of poems before leaving for a shopping trip with her friends. They needed cocktail dresses to attend a special social hosted by the First Lady and browsed around a few smaller boutiques before stopping at a high-end one. It was another business entity owned by Mrs. Malhotra. A part of Sarah’s plan was to be seen as often by the woman to unsettle her.

The prices of the dresses were way above what the girls could afford but they still bought a piece of fashion jewellery and were about to leave when Mrs. Malhotra arrived at the store.
“Oh, hi, I’m seeing you, ladies, again!” she exclaimed surprised.
“We’re on a shopping trip today,” one of the girls said.
“Saw anything you like?”

She was looking at Sarah as she spoke so Sarah answered matter-of-factly but pleasantly, “You have lovely outfits but it’s a bit above our budget.”
“Maybe I can discount something,” she offered.
“No, it’s fine, thanks.”

They left and Sarah couldn’t help smiling at the perplexed look on her ex- mistress’s face.
“The plan is coming along nicely,” she sighed with satisfaction.
It got better that evening as she came face-to-face with her abusers at the First Lady’s cocktail party at the State House.
To be continued…