“With the fall of the trees that once cursed our borders, he knew that another danger would fill its place: conquest.” “You mean colonialism,” she corrected him. By the people you worked for, was what she almost said. He met her eyes. “Is there much of a difference?” She thought of the boats teetering on Ceylan’s shores, the blood that dyed her mother’s sari a deeper shade of red. She thought of the people who remained there now, foreigners in their own homes. No, Arthie decided, there wasn’t.
