Incense and Sensibility (The Rajes #3) - Sonali Dev Page 0,115

night. Now there was a crowd thronging the campus.

“America belongs to all of us,” a young woman in a hijab said, sobbing. An Asian woman hugged her, tears running down her face. “Yash Raje is our governor. Yash Raje is us.” The emotion in her voice was palpable, and the faith in her eyes lodged like a lump in Yash’s throat.

“Vote!” a group of Black and White students screamed into the camera in one voice. “Integrity, respect, intelligence. That’s the kind of leader we want. Someone who stands by his friends. He makes us feel seen.”

“The other side is losing its shit right now, isn’t it?” Abdul said.

Sure enough, the camera panned to a group with Cruz posters. “This is America, not Arabia. One nation under God.” A man waved the American flag.

“What exactly is Arabia?” Arzu said.

“Isn’t that the place Peter O’Toole was Lawrence of?”

They both laughed.

An altercation broke out between the two groups. The camera lapped it up.

“Idiots,” Yash muttered.

Abdul picked up the remote and muted the TV. “They’re not idiots. What they are is dangerous, and they will do anything to make sure you don’t win. Right now I’ll bet it’s killing them that they have nothing on you.”

“They’re going to have nothing on him,” Arzu said, her fierceness trained on Yash this time. “Yash is the perfect candidate.”

“She’s right. I can’t wait to get back out there between you and bullets.”

“Don’t say that,” Yash said. “Don’t say that.”

“I would, brother. Did you know that when the agency assigned me to you I begged not to be assigned to a politician? I told them to give me an actor instead, at least those guys aren’t lying about lying. Politicians? I had never seen one who wasn’t a liar through and through. Then I met you. At first I just rolled my eyes at you. I thought it was an act. All that sincerity. All that annoying interest.” He stopped to smile.

“Then I got to know you. You’re the real thing. I believe that with my whole heart. Everyone else is in this for personal gain. You’re here because you put us, the public, before you. I never thought I’d see the day, but finally there’s a public servant who’s here to serve. And you’re going to win.” Abdul’s eyes glittered with purpose, the new hollows beneath them making the impact devastating.

“And he’s going to change things for those who’ve been waiting for change. You’re the answer to so many people’s prayers,” Arzu said, her conviction matching Abdul’s. She picked up Naaz and pressed her to her heart. “Our children will have a better world. Our pain. Everything we went through, it’s all going to count for something, because you’re going to win, inshallah.”

YASH’S PHONE HAD been ringing off the hook. He probably had a thousand texts. They sat unopened on his phone in the passenger seat of his car, where he’d been sitting for long enough that he knew he had to move or someone was going to find him. Several of the messages were from India.

India.

To be with her he would have to admit to the world that he had lied, for his entire political career. He’d have to break up publicly with someone everyone saw as a loyal girlfriend.

How had betting it all on telling the truth felt easy just hours ago?

A man had almost died for him. Hundreds of thousands of young people, people who felt disenfranchised, othered in their own home, were counting on him. Millions of people who were afraid of falling sick, of losing their homes, of sending their children to school because they might get shot there, of having their planet die, were counting on him. He’d made them a promise. They believed him.

They believed a liar.

Pulling the car out of his spot, Yash started to drive.

Chapter Twenty-Four

India had been waiting for Yash to call, which was a little too terrifyingly déjà vu, no matter how hard she tried not to think of it that way. This was not the same as meeting a man at a wedding, getting lost in him for a day, and jumping straight to planning how many children she’d have with him. Not by a long shot.

This was knowing someone’s deepest thoughts, being intimate with the fissures that cracked them open, and sharing your own cracks with them. This was about being seen all the way inside, right to where the audacious, incipient germ of hope was hidden. This was dropping armor when spears were