Wendy nodded toward the office. Nasha sat on the porch steps, a stick in her hand, tapping it on the ground. When she looked up and saw Remi watching her, she snapped the stick in two.
“Give me a minute.” Remi walked over to the office, sitting down next to Nasha. “Why didn’t you want to come say good-bye?”
Nasha shrugged but wouldn’t meet her eyes, instead watching Pete and Yaro, who were tying down the back of the canvas on the truck.
Remi looked over at them, then back at Nasha. “I’m not sure when I’m going to see you again.”
“Doesn’t matter.” She tossed half of the broken stick to the ground. “No one ever comes back.”
As much as Remi wished she could promise to find Nasha’s uncle—or, at the very least, find who might be responsible for her in his absence—she wasn’t about to raise her hopes only to have them dashed again. Still, she had to say something. “You know, sometimes people want to come back, but things happen. It doesn’t mean they ever stopped loving you.”
“What kinds of things happen?”
“Maybe they got in an accident and they didn’t have a way to call you. Or they didn’t have enough money.” Remi laid her hand over Nasha’s. “But that’s not going to happen to me. I’m coming back. I just don’t know when.”
“Never. Like everyone else.”
“Someday,” Remi said. “I promise.”
Nasha’s response was to whack the remaining half of her broken stick against the wooden step.
“I have a friend who needs my help,” Remi continued. “Just like I needed yours when we were in trouble. I promised her. You wouldn’t want me to break that promise, would you?”
“No . . .” She hit the step one more time and looked up at Remi, her eyes troubled. “But what if you were mad because your friend did something wrong? Could you break your promise then?”
“I’d try to find a way to make it right. Because that’s what friends do.”
She tossed the stick, her dark eyes shimmering. “Why can’t I go with you?” she said, her voice breaking. “I’ll try to be good.”
Remi’s heart twisted as she put her arm around Nasha’s thin shoulders. It was a minute before she could even get past the lump in her throat. “I’m going to miss you most of all,”
Nasha threw herself at Remi, pulling tight. “I’ll never forget you. Never.”
“I know.” Remi held her for several seconds, then gently pried her loose. “Now, go say good-bye to Amal. She’s going to miss you, too.”
Nasha wiped the tears from her cheeks and ran across the gravel, jumping into Amal’s outstretched arms. Where she disappeared to after that, Remi didn’t know. When they were in the car, pulling out of the gate, Sam looked over at Remi. “Something in your eye?”
She glanced in the side mirror, watching all the girls racing past the army trucks toward the gate, waving good-bye. “A lot of somethings.”
* * *
—
They were halfway to Jalingo when Remi’s phone rang. Expecting it to be Renee with news about what had happened to Warren, she was surprised to see Wendy’s number on the screen when she answered it. “Did we forget something?”
“It’s Nasha. I haven’t been able to find her since you left. Did she say anything to you?”
“She was upset we were leaving.”
Sam looked at her. “What is it?”
“Nasha. They can’t find her.” Remi turned on the speaker and shifted in her seat, looking back at Amal. “Did she say anything to you?”
“Just that she’d miss me. What about up in her tree?”
“We’ve searched everywhere,” Wendy said.
Remi glanced out the rear window, seeing the supply truck behind them. “Oh no . . . Sam, stop the car.”
Sam braked and again looked at Remi as Pete pulled to a stop behind them. “You don’t think . . . ?”
“Think what?” Wendy asked.
“Hold on,” Remi said. They got out of the Land Rover and walked back toward the truck.
Pete hopped out, following them around to the cargo bed. “Something wrong?”
Sam unhooked the canvas covering, pulling it up. “Stowaway,” Sam said.
Nasha braced herself in the corner, a look of determination on her face as she stared back at them. “Are you mad at me?”
“She’s here, Wendy. We’ll call you back.” Remi dropped her phone into her pocket. “Nasha . . . I thought you liked it at the school.”
She bit at her bottom lip, then in a rush said, “I have to go back to Jalingo.”
“Why?”
“I promised. My friend’s there all by himself.”
“Chuk?” Sam asked, surprising Remi he even knew who Nasha was talking about.
Nasha nodded.
“We can’t leave him there,” Remi said.
“No,” Sam replied. “I’m just trying to figure out the logistics. I don’t think Kambili’s going to willingly give him up. If we’re lucky, we’ll find him out on the street.”
But once they reached Jalingo, the street where they’d first been accosted by the boys was surprisingly empty of pickpockets. Sam took a quick look around. “Pete, we’ll need you to stand guard while Remi and I go in. The rest of you wait here.”
As they walked off, Remi heard Lazlo saying to Amal, “I’ve been meaning to ask you about this jump rope rhyme you taught to Nasha. A bit of Latin, I believe.”
“Latin? I don’t recall teaching her any.”
“Pity, that. It reminded me of something. Nasha, what was that rhyme . . . ?”
Remi, figuring Lazlo was reflecting on his lost youth, hurried after Sam and Pete. A few minutes later, they descended on the Kalu shop, only to discover that Kambili wasn’t there.
But neither was Chuk.
“He’s with Kambili,” one of the boys said.
“And Scarface,” another added. “They’re taking him home.”
“Home?” Sam looked over at Remi.
“Lucky for us, we’ve brought the cavalry.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
A snake can shed its skin but it still remains a snake.