“Pain level?” he asked.
“Manageable,” I said.
A lie.
Not pain exactly. More like a tightness when I breathed too deeply. A reminder. Smoke had been inside me. Heat had followed me out.
His jaw tightened like he wanted to press, but he nodded once and went back to the file.
I knew what he was doing. Reconstructing. Analyzing. Trying to solve something that had already almost taken me away from him.
Trying to carry it alone.
I shifted slightly, testing my lungs the way the doctor had shown me. Slow inhale. Hold. Release.
My phone buzzed in my lap.
It was Asha. I didn’t want to move. Between the calls to my parents and Jada, I was more than exhausted. I was winded. But I moved anyway. Swiping to answer as Tariq looked up again.
“Hey…” My voice was a whisper.
Asha’s face filled the screen—bright and warm, even through a digital haze. “You look like hell, and still manage to glow. How?”
I tried to smile. “Getting good rest.”
Tariq made a low sound, something like a scoff, and shook his head before returning to his files.
Asha’s eyes shifted, catching the motion. “Is that him?”
I nodded. “He hasn’t left my side.”
She gave a slow, knowing grin. “I only wanted to set my eyes on you. Make sure you are doing okay. But it looks like you’re doing more than okay.” She gave me an exaggerated wink.
“Too soon,” I croaked, and she laughed softly.
“Mmmhmmn,” she said. “As long as you look this good, I can sleep at night.”
“I’m not dead yet.”
Asha sobered. “Don’t joke like that.”
I swallowed hard. “Sorry.”
Her voice softened. “You scared me, Sanaa. If Tariq hadn’t?—”
“He did,” I whispered. “He was there.”
“I can see that. And... I can see something else.”
I stayed quiet.
She let the silence settle for a beat before smiling. “My girl is so loved…this makes me very happy.”
I managed a smile and hazarded a look in his direction. He was pretending to still be immersed in his files. But I knew better.
“I am.”
“I’ll be in touch soon.”
