Rani Amma’s voice rose to cracking point and Kasturi jumped in to soothe her, saying: “A few things, Akka. Don’t let her eat papaya. That papaya tree in your backyard, cut it down at once.”

It’s a cold winter night. The cars on the freeway come and go like waves. The lights from the George Washington Bridge reflect off the Hudson River like the shine in glassy eyes.

Pepe knew it was a matter of time before he caught his own disease from the mines. That did not bother him. His father used to tell him that dying was inevitable and something must bring death to a man’s doorstep. His parents were hacked down like trees on their way to the farm three years ago. A militia group had been prowling the forest.