I thought about how selfish I was.
I really hated myself.
My foot was bleeding.
I had sliced my heel when I climbed the chain-link fence to our spot in the park. We were supposed to celebrate Sizdeh Bedar there.
I didn’t think that was going to happen anymore.
From the Jameh Mosque, the azan sounded, piercing the quiet afternoon. All across Yazd, people faced the qibla to pray, a titanic multicellular entity focused on the same moment in space-time.
My throat clamped up, a compression wave that traveled down my chest and into my stomach.
Another containment failure.
I wiped my face against my Team Melli jersey, the one Sohrab got me for Nowruz.
No one had ever gotten me a gift like Sohrab had. One that showed he understood me perfectly. One that made me feel like I belonged.
No one had ever invited me to play soccer or hang around on rooftops or stand around a Ping-Pong table eating lettuce.
No one ever made me feel like it was okay to cry. Or bumped shoulders with me and made me smile.
I shook so hard, I thought the bathroom was going to lose molecular cohesion and collapse into a vibrating pile of dust.
I was never going to stop crying.
Sohrab was right about me.
Sohrab was right about everything.
I crossed my elbows over my knees and buried my face in the little hollow I had made.
I wished I had the One Ring, so I could have vanished.
I wished I had a cloaking device so no one would ever find me.
I wished I could just disappear forever.
“Darius?”
It was impossible.
How had Stephen Kellner located me?
The chain-link fence rattled as he hoisted himself up. “There you are.”
“Hey.” My throat didn’t work right. I sounded like I had swallowed a pineapple with its skin still on.
Dad wiped his palms on his pants and sat down beside me, so close, our elbows bumped.
I scooted away so we weren’t touching.
“We were worried about you.”
“Sorry.”
“Mr. Rezaei said you left Sohrab’s house hours ago. Have you been up here the whole time?”
