Excerpt from Flash House by Aimee E. Liu, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Joanna pretended to busy herself with papers while the girl ate undisturbed. Salamat Jannat was a "Safe Haven" in name only. In reality it was little more than a dumping ground for girls remanded by the courts. There were sixteen of these inmates at the moment, all older than this child and most of them seasoned harlots, some wild and mean, some devious. As a newcomer to India and only recently appointed director of the home, Joanna had no choice but to temper her expectations. She could document the girls' exploitation and see that they received the necessary medical attention for the gonorrhea and syphilis, the abrasions and contusions, addictions and hysteria that were the side effects of their trade. She could offer them the means and contacts to attempt a different livelihood, but despite her best efforts, the girls were loath to give up their lifestyle. Among her charges were two devadasi, "temple girls" raised from birth to believe that sex was their spiritual calling. Another was a Beria, sent by her family into prostitution as a mandatory vocation--as were all the girls from her village according to centuries-old tradition. Still others had been lured to Delhi by friends or relatives promising easy money, or had fled alcoholic parents who would only beat them and send them back to the street if they went home. Hindu and Muslim cultures alike taught these girls that they were good for nothing but more of the same that had spoiled them. In the face of such teaching, Joanna knew that promises of hope must be made with care.

But this girl--Kamla--was obviously different. Her youth--and those arresting eyes--were the least of it. She stole another glance as the girl lifted her glass of lhassi with both hands and drank so deeply that her throat rippled. None of the other girls had come here voluntarily, let alone found their own way. And it could not be the home's reputation that had drawn her but some reading she had taken on Joanna herself. Joanna found it at once poignant and more than a little daunting to think how this child must have sized her up that day at the brothel, secretly marking her, then traveled the full length of the city to imagined sanctuary. How could Joanna not honor such faith? Certainly, she felt compelled to try.

Finally Kamla finished eating, wiped her mouth, and accepted a cup of milk tea. Joanna summoned her young assistant, Vijay Lal, to translate, and asked the child to tell them about herself. She had expected that "I am called Kamla. You are Mrs. Shaw" would exhaust the girl's English, but to her surprise, the tale that now tumbled unhesitatingly forth was studded with phrases such as "under arrest," "flash house," and "break free," which suggested either that the brothel she'd escaped had an unusually educated clientele or that the girl herself had been exposed to English earlier in her life. Joanna made a note of this, along with the core details of her story. Kamla, it seemed, had been sold by her family to the brothel keeper--or gharwali--when she was almost too young to remember. She had served as a kind of maidservant to the prostitutes, and she had never considered running away until one day recently when the police had come. She'd been used and beaten. Only then did she flee. She remembered that Mrs. Shaw had helped the Untouchable boy and his mother. (So the police had taken Kamla after her own attempt to rescue the girl, Joanna noted with dismay.) Kamla thought Mrs. Shaw might help her. It took seven days and nights but at last she had found her way here.

Vijay and Joanna exchanged looks. The young Hindu had a kind heart, but he was not one for complications. The girl's suggestion that the police had raped her was an indisputable complication. And Vijay clearly did not sympathize with Kamla. To him she was just another case to record, file, and dispatch. Neither the blue eyes nor the fair skin nor the defiance of her spirit shifted him out of his usual mode of thinking. More trouble than she is worth, his look warned. Joanna held his gaze and shook her head. "Tell her she is safe here."

Copyright © 2003 by Aimee E. Liu. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher.