I read the text one more time, then deleted it and blocked Linda Lokind’s number.
On my way up the stairs, I called Chris.
“Finally,” he said. “I was actually starting to worry.”
There was buzzing in the background. Cars, a horn.
“Sorry, I fell asleep on the couch.”
“You have to come out,” he said. “I’m in the car. I booked the suite at the Grand Hotel.”
68
Elsa unlocks the door for Shirine, who lingers just inside of it.
“Are you better?” she asks cautiously.
“Yes?”
I may be lying on the bed, but I’m fully dressed.
“You missed your appointment yesterday. They said you were sick.”
“Oh.” I’d almost forgotten about that. “I’m a bit better now.”
Shirine picks up Crime and Punishment from the table.
“So what did you think of this?”
I wrack my brains for a moment.
“It was long.”
Just think, I voluntarily plowed my way through a never-ending, nineteenth-century Russian novel. Without even hating it.
Raskolnikov is just over twenty years old and thinks he’s smarter and better than everyone else. He needs money, so he decides to rob and kill an old pawnbroker, who he describes as a horrible, evil person who doesn’t deserve to live.
“What do you think?” Shirine asks. “Are all murders equally heinous, or can there sometimes be extenuating circumstances?”
I gaze at her thoughtfully.
“Of course there can be extenuating circumstances,” I say.
“Is it that straightforward?”
“There might not be any in these books, but of course. Hypothetically speaking.”
“Hypothetically,” Shirine repeats warily, as if she’s never heard the word before. “Such as? What could possibly justify taking another person’s life?”
“Not justify. That’s a different story. We’re talking about extenuating circumstances.”
“Give me an example,” Shirine says, gesturing with one hand.
“Self-defense.”
“But that’s different. In that case it’s not murder. Everyone has the right to defend themselves. Give me another example.”
I scratch my cheek.
“Some people don’t deserve to live.”
Shirine’s eyes narrow.
“I don’t mean that anyone can just go around killing people,” I say. “But some people have exhausted their right to life. One solution to the problem, obviously, would be a functional justice system. If killers and rapists were properly punished…”
“Are you saying you’re pro–death penalty?”
“I think most people are. It’s awfully easy to be against the death penalty as long as you aren’t personally affected. Ask anyone who has lost a family member to murder and I bet the answer is pretty obvious.”
“But don’t you think people deserve a second chance?” she says.
“After raping and killing?”
I don’t know if she’s purposely trying to wind me up, but if she is, it’s working.
“The man who raped me,” I say. “Are you saying he deserves a second chance?”
“I … well…”
“I was fifteen. Fifteen! He trapped me and held me down so hard I couldn’t breathe. I fought for my life while he shoved his disgusting cock inside me.”
Shirine’s face is stuck in a grotesque grimace.
“There are extenuating circumstances,” I declare. “I would have been happy to watch that pig die.”
Shirine is smart enough not to argue. She blinks a few times and looks down at her hands.
“I could have killed him myself,” I say.
69
I woke up in the suite at the Grand Hotel. Chris had sunk into the easy chair across from me, a cup of coffee in his hands and his ankles crossed on the ottoman.
“Good morning, hot stuff.”
I smiled and padded past him to the bathroom, where I washed my face in the sink and sat down on the edge of the bathtub, which we’d soaked in a long time the night before. A thick clump of regret was bubbling in my stomach.
“What time do you have to work?” Chris called from his chair.
“Quarter to ten.”
I was already cutting it close.
I dressed and made an effort to look happy and grateful as I hugged Chris.
“Don’t forget this,” he said, handing me the map.
It was a present. He’d given it to me while we were drinking bubbly in the bed, right after we got the room keys. It was an A3-sized piece of paper, rolled up like parchment and secured with a lovely velvet ribbon. I had unrolled it and felt my heart leap. It was a map of Asia, and Chris had marked special spots with gold stars. Places he wanted us to experience together. I didn’t mention that I already had a map, much bigger and full of pushpins.