While gulping down some harsh brandy, Kristen gave Indra the best description she could of the killers. She was aware that she was describing the Xhosa killers of an Indian to another Indian, and that she herself was half-Xhosa. It gave matters an edge she didn’t like at all, but it was the same one she’d lived with for all her days. She just never got used to it. Kristen didn’t know whether Indra would be grateful, since Manoj was one of her infinitude of cousins, or whether she’d beat the drek out of her.