My shoulders sunk and I looked away. “Zakai remembers this?”
Cody nodded. “Yes.” He paused. “Zakai is reticent, but I got the sense he felt ashamed about it.”
Of course he did. How could he not? Something suddenly occurred to me, my gut tightening. “Did he . . . lure me?”
Cody watched me for a moment. “Yes. Zakai was getting older and resisting his part in Haziq’s scheme. Haziq had no use for him without that role. He could have sold him to other traffickers then, and probably would have, but through a twist of fate, Haziq saw you. He noticed how similar you and Zakai looked. His twisted greedy mind began spinning with how you’d eventually fit into his act. He used Zakai to lure you from the courtyard you were playing in. You were young, but you were an investment.”
My mind spun. An investment. One that had paid off well. Zakai had understood fully while I had not. I had no memory of that fateful day. But Zakai did. “He never told me,” I murmured. “He kept it to himself.” Just as he always had. Maybe it was habit. Maybe it was more. I had been so sure of things once upon a time, but that time was gone. I thought about the day Bertha had died, when I’d heard Zakai apologizing to her and her offering forgiveness. My heart pinched as understanding dawned. He’d blamed himself for so much.
“How did you know about Sundara?” I asked after a moment.
He tilted his head. “We get intel about places like Sundara, usually from locals.”
“There are other places like Sundara?”
His lips thinned momentarily. “Sundara was unique, even for me, and I’ve . . .” He released a breath. “Well, I’ve seen a lot. But there are always places like Sundara.”
There are always places like Sundara. I closed my eyes, letting out a shaky exhale.
“I want you to know, Karys, that that notebook you used to write names in, we used it to apprehend many men involved in the sex trade. Haziq will never see the light of day. But what you did by identifying the men who visited Sundara . . . it saved others that they would have victimized somewhere else.”
His words felt like a ray of sunshine washing over me and I gasped out a grateful breath, even while still attempting to process what he’d told me about Zakai.
Cody allowed me a few moments, obviously sensing my turbulent emotions. He looked past me, tipping his chin at something. I turned my head, glancing at the painting that featured a person with an instrument standing on a small platform in front of an audience. “I’ve always loved the impressionists,” he said. “Have you learned about them in school?”
Confused by the change in subject, I shook my head, my eyes lingering on the picture.
“That one’s called Parade de Cirque. Or Circus Sideshow in English. It’s by Georges Seurat.” I swallowed, my gaze moving over the other details . . . a man with a mustache and what might be a whip, a child—or perhaps a small person—staring up at him. They’re here for a sideshow. Haziq’s voice echoed in my mind and I closed my eyes momentarily before looking back at Cody’s ruggedly handsome face. “It’s a reproduction of course,” he said, his discerning eyes moving over my features. “My line of work often brings the richness of fulfillment but not of material things. But someday I’m going to figure out how to get myself a real one.” He smiled and despite that, for a moment there, the painting had conjured Sundara and Haziq’s cruel voice, I smiled too, wondering where Cody was going with this.
He cleared his throat. “Anyway, Seurat used a type of impressionism called pointillism which is art that’s made up of a million tiny dots of color. If you walked right up to it, it would be difficult to tell what the picture was. You have to stand back for all those dots to come together to form something clear.”
I tilted my head. “Like the stars,” I murmured.
“The stars?”
“The constellations. We only see the picture of the fish or the ox or the twins because our minds create the lines between each point.”
Cody smiled. “Yes. Yes exactly.” He paused, looking deeply into my eyes. “Life can be murky, Karys. Often it’s up to us to fill in the lines. Sometimes it’s necessary to squint in order to see more clearly. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
My heart jolted and I drew in a shaky breath as I nodded. Even though I’d just been feeling cheerless, his words lifted my dismal spirit and gave me a dose of hope for the first time in so very, very long. I took in his kind eyes, thick hair, the color of which I’d once likened to the sand because it was the only geography I knew. But now that I saw Cody Rutland in the midst of the wide world, I thought his hair more closely matched a wheat field under a lowering sun. He had rescued me once upon a time and I felt rescued now.
I leaned in and planted my lips on his, pulling my body closer.
Obviously caught off guard, he went still for the breath of a moment, before pulling quickly away. He scooted back, running his hand through his hair.
“It’s okay,” I said in a rush of words. “I wanted to kiss you.” I looked down shyly. “I wanted you to kiss me back.”
Cody stood, moving to the fireplace where he put his hand on the mantel, his back to me. After a moment he turned. “No,” he said. “It isn’t right. I’m sorry. You’re beautiful, and you’re . . . captivating, Karys. But I’m here to support you, not to muddy the waters you’re still wading through.”
Hurt made my heart feel tight and painful. “Is that really it?” I asked. “Or is it that you saw us? On Sundara? You saw what we were.” I teared up, shame flooding my chest.
Cody pressed his lips together, walking back to the couch and sitting back down, but farther away from me this time. “It’s not that. You deserve time to figure out who you are, above and beyond any man. Even Zakai. There’s a depth to you, Karys, one I don’t think you even recognize or understand yet. You’re going to do amazing things with your life.”
You deserve time to figure out who you are, above and beyond any man. Even Zakai. My uncle had said the same thing. Even if he had ended up betraying me. Still . . . maybe they were both right, but if so, why did it hurt so much? Why did it feel so incredibly lonely?
Cody accompanied me home on the subway and we walked in silence that had become comfortable during the journey back to my home. The stars weren’t always visible in New York City but that night they were, and something about the sight gave my heart solace and allowed me to find peace in Cody’s rejection. I’d been seeking something in his arms that his arms would not provide.
As we traveled in companionable silence, I considered what that something might have been. I’d felt rescued by him once again, but from what this time? From your sadness, my heart whispered. Yes, I’d felt rescued from my sadness, perhaps because I’d never truly learned how to bear it alone. Zakai and Bertha, and the other members of my family to a lesser extent, had shielded me and carried my burdens. I’d “repaid” Cody for lightening my sorrow, by offering the one thing I had of value: my body. But Cody had seemed to recognize the situation for what it was. His work was with people who’d experienced the same thing as me. How could he not understand? He was a good and honorable man.