What she could do that was not courts was this. Close the gap. Remove the justification. Make the authentic organ no more clinically valuable than the synthetic one.
She looked at the irregular vascular tree and thought: one point two percent.
"I'll be there," she said. "For the first case."
She thought about Raju Waghmare, who had called her six months ago to say he was back in Mumbai, working for a different contractor, and volunteering on weekends with a community health monitoring group that had started in the settlement after the Kalyani case — people keeping count, the way Sunita had always kept count, but now with a structure and a connection to a legal aid organisation that meant the count could become evidence when it needed to.
She thought about Sunita, on the national organ procurement policy advisory committee now — the first community health coordinator in the country to hold that position, using it with the same precise, unflappable determination she used for everything.
"Come," Krishnamurthy said. "I want to show you the cardiac matrix."
Priya followed her deeper into the lab. Around her, in cultures and matrices and rendered three-dimensional models on clean screens, hearts and livers and kidneys grew in the careful conditions of science doing what science was supposed to do — solving problems that caused suffering, closing gaps that had been exploited, making the impossible less impossible in increments too small to feel heroic and too important to stop.
She was a doctor. She did not get to be done. She put on gloves and got to work.
