Malina found Theuli and Pran in the kitchen, discussing something that registered on her senses not at all. Unable to speak for a moment, she showed them the doll.
Theuli smiled at the sight of it. Pran, however, could only stare in dreadful recognition. Theuli’s smile faltered when she noticed her husband’s reaction; it was erased altogether when she noticed the way that Malina’s and Pran’s eyes were locked on to each other.
‘Have you something to tell me?’ Malina demanded, her voice suffused with emotion.
Pran opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t, or couldn’t reply at first.
Staring at her husband with an unreadable expression, Theuli said, ‘Pran? What is this about?’
Instead of answering, Pran got to his feet, his face ashen. ‘Not now. There is something . . . there is something that Malina and I need to discuss. Alone.’ To Malina, he said, ‘I suggest we go for a walk. I am afraid that we will both need . . . some privacy . . . for what I must tell you.’
Walking slowly in the dark, they made their way down to the low glade through which the stream flowed, coming at last to a place where there was a fire-pit and crude wooden benches made from logs. Above them the sky was clear, and full of stars. Pran knelt down and built a small fire, then backed away to stand before one of the benches, but remained silent, apparently reluctant to speak.