Page 138 of Sexting the Pakhan

“Less than an hour ago,” Ruslan says.

“Exit wound?”

“Yes.”

“Dizziness?”

“No.”

I say, “He may lie.”

Dr. Mehra looks at him. “Do you?”

Ruslan says, “When needed.”

“Not with me,” Dr. Mehra says.

Karina exhales softly, almost like a laugh.

Dr. Mehra glances at her. “Karina, can you get clean towels and warm water?”

Karina nods. “Yes.”

I start to move too, but Dr. Mehra stops me. “Stay,” she says. “I need you to hold pressure while I prepare.”

So I stand beside Ruslan and press the towel where she tells me to press. My hands are steady only because they have to be.

Ruslan looks up at me once.

I don’t look back.

Karina returns with towels and a bowl of warm water. Dr. Mehra takes them, then says, “I can handle this for a minute. Zoya, wash your hands. You have blood on them.”

I look down.

She’s right. There’s blood on my fingers, under my nails, on the side of my wrist.

Karina touches my elbow. “Come.”

I let her pull me into the hallway. The second we’re out of the kitchen, I turn on her. “What is going on with you and Dr. Mehra?”

Karina blinks. “That’s your first question?”

I raise a brow.

She rubs both hands over her face. “We can talk about that later.”

“Fine,” I say. “Then tell me what you were going to say at the kindergarten.”

She goes still.

I lower my voice. “You said there was something I should know.”

She looks toward the kitchen.

Ruslan can’t see us from here. Dr. Mehra is speaking to him quietly while opening supplies.

Karina still lowers her voice more. “It’s about the number,” she says.