“All right,” I said. “Ah, Diti, you have to . . .” “I know,” she said, taking her rapa off. Luyu and Binta both looked away. I felt nauseated. Not out of fear but more from a deep sense of discomfort. She would have to spread her legs. But even worse, I had to also place my hands on the scar that was left from that swift cut nine years ago.
