ADVERTISEMENT
She found herself listening to the rhythm of his return each evening. She found herself reaching out to touch the rough fabric of his tunic, her fingers frozen in the steady beat of his heart. She was falling in love with a spirit, a man defined by poverty and kindness.
Zainab fled. She didn’t use a cane; she ran instinctively and painfully, her feet desperately finding their way back to the hut. She sat in the darkness for hours, the cold earth penetrating her bones.
When Yusha returned, the air was different. The smell of wood smoke wafting from him now smelled of burning deception.