I peered into the car and saw her curled up on the passenger seat, her head resting on Jack’s lap. “How did you manage to calm her down?”
“I told her a story that Lily used to love.” He stroked her hair absently, as if strumming a beloved, forgotten lullaby.
“I’ll take her inside.” Bahati scooped her out of the car, careful not to wake her.
“I think I’ll lie down for a bit too,” said Goma. “These rough roads rattle my bones.”
We watched them open the door and disappear into the house.
“I don’t know how any man can abandon his daughter,” Jack said softly. “If I could squeeze in one more moment with Lily—one tiny, fleeting moment—I would do it. No matter the cost. I’d trade my soul to the devil for it.”
“I don’t think Gabriel’s abandoned Scholastica. It doesn’t make sense. Here he is, getting all these kids to safety—putting himself at risk in the process. And then he just takes off and leaves his own daughter? It just doesn’t fit.”
“How do we know he was really getting those kids to safety? All we know for sure is that he was rounding up albino children, using your sister. Did she ever say they actually delivered the kids to the orphanage in Wanza? Did they physically lead them in through the doors, get them registered, and settled in?”
“Mo never brought it up, but I’ve never questioned Gabriel’s motives. He has an albino daughter himself.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t automatically align him with the cause. We know nothing about him as a person. We’re assuming he’s a good guy. What if he’s not? What if he’s just been using Scholastica to get the families of other kids to trust him? We know he offered Juma’s family some sort of compensation. Is it out of his own pocket, or is he working for someone else?”
“Are you saying that Gabriel could be an albino hunter? That he duped my sister into helping him?” I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of it.
“I don’t know, but it’s a possibility we need to consider. We won’t know for sure until we get to Wanza. Once we’re there, we can check the records and find out if he really delivered those kids to the orphanage.”
“Why don’t we just call them?”
“I don’t want to tip anyone off—in case Gabriel has someone keeping an eye out for him there. I’d rather just show up and check it out myself.”
“What about the police? Goma has Hamisi searching for him.”
“Hamisi keeps his mouth shut. His discretion is what earns him a second income.”
I nodded, but it felt like the ground was shifting from under my feet. Everything I had based my decisions on seemed to be illusory, like a distant mirage. “I stopped at the mall today.”
We were talking through the window, with Jack still sitting in the car. For the first time since our early morning exchange by the barn, our eyes met and held. There was something indefinable in his, something he didn’t want me to see. And then like a curtain, it dropped, and he cupped my face. The rough pad of his thumb brushed against my cheek in a gesture that was so tender, the breath stilled in my chest.
My lashes spiked from unspilled tears, though I didn’t know exactly why I wanted to cry. It could have been from seeing the mall, or the possibility that I might have totally misjudged Gabriel. But a part of it was also because ofthis. This sense of fitting so easily into the curve of Jack’s palm, the rightness of it, the ripeness of it, like a fruit—sweet and heavy—waiting to be plucked. I knew I would have to leave it hanging—untainted, untasted—like a perfectly round echo of what could have been.
I don’t know how to say goodbye to a sister, and then to a lover, all in one breath.
And so I stepped back, and Jack withdrew his hand. He rolled up the window and got out of the car.
“You missed a spot,” I said, pointing out the smudges on the glass.
“They’re not smudges,” he said. “They’re Lily’s fingerprints. She was eating chocolate that day. When we got to the mall, my phone rang. She came around to my side and put her hand here. Like this . . .” He hovered his fingertips over the marks. “One, two, three, four, five. See? Five perfect little chocolate prints. I haven’t washed them since. Every time I look out of the window, I see Lily there, holding her palm to the glass, making faces at me.”
Whenever Jack spoke of Lily, his entire profile softened. In those moments, his innately captivating presence was like a flame, kindled from within. For a second, I was completely jealous, because I had never lived in someone’s heart like that. And I wanted to. I wanted to make someone, someday, glow like that when they thought of me.
As Jack put the hose away, I realized that it wasn’t true. I didn’t want someone, someday. I wanted now. Today. And I wanted it with Jack.
No matter how many reasons I gave myself not to, I was falling for Jack Warden, more and more, with each passing day.
THE DAY STARTEDearly at the farm. The best time to pick coffee was before it got too hot. It had to be done by hand because coffee cherries on the same branch ripen at different stages, so the harvesters pluck only the mature cherries and place them into their baskets, one by one.
“It takes around seventy cherries to make one cup of coffee,” said Goma, when I asked her.
“Wow.” I cradled my cup with a new sense of appreciation.
“Hapana, Scholastica. Not for you,” said Goma, as Scholastica swiped her coffee. “Watoto wana kunywamaziwa.” She pointed to the glass of milk on the table.
