I rifled through the dresser and nightstand, unfolding old receipts and compiling a stack of stray buttons. Not exactly hidden treasure, but it beat staring at the ceiling and counting sheep. I stuck my arm under the bed, sweeping my palm across the dusty floor.
A sharp, flimsy object collided with my hand.
Delighted, I pulled it out from under the bed, sitting on my haunches to evaluate my new prize. A plastic tiara. Coated in a fine layer of dust, a band of pink fuzz went around the tiara’s edge, and fake gemstones bedazzled the crown’s arches. Someone’s kid must have forgotten it. One of my cousins, maybe?
In the mirror, I fixed the tiara over my hair. The curls bunched up under the tiara’s forked teeth, stretching the band to its breaking point.
Bored again, I roamed the room. If I would be staying up anyway, I might as well watch the sunrise from one of the balconies on the northern side of the villa. Technically, it wouldn’t be breaking Khalto Safa’s rule. I wasn’t planning to wander, just walk in a straight line to the balcony.
I shut the door behind me as quietly as possible. From our travels, I knew Khalto Safa slept lightly.
The second floor of the Haikal villa could swallow my house in Ward three times over. I knew my bedroom was on the garden side and the balconies were on the pool side, but I hadn’t considered how tough it might be navigating a villa in the dark. I crept past a sparkling clean kitchenette, dragging a hand along the wall for balance. At this rate, the sun would be fully risen by the time I reached the balcony.
I mentally smacked myself for leaving my phone on the nightstand. I could have used the flashlight to guide my path.
Another ten minutes of wandering later, and I was still winding up in one of the ten million seating areas scattered throughout the second floor. I leaned my forehead against the wall, releasing a sigh as I accepted the inevitable. Maybe the sunrise would be better from my window. Besides, there were a ton of mosquitoes on the balcony, and what if I encountered the creature those birds and animals howled at every night?
I trudged back to my room in defeat. Halfway there, my foot met hard resistance, nearly hurtling me to the ground. I cried out, stumbling against the blast of pain in my toe. I landed on my knee and clutched a wrought iron baluster for balance.
As soon as the pain cleared, bewilderment followed. How did I get to the stairs? I was almost certain I’d been walking straight, and the stairs leading to the bottom floor were to the left of my room.
In the gloom, long windows took shape beneath the high ceiling. Twisting intricate patterns crisscrossed the stained glass. Those windows … I had seen them when I’d entered the property, but I hadn’t come across them until now. The first hints of dawn seeped through, tinting the walls a soft orange. The light spilled onto a set of spiral marble steps.
I stopped breathing. These stairs hadn’t been here before.
With an uncomfortable jolt, I realized I was still kneeling. My throbbing toe forgotten, I rose.
Before me, a set of spiral steps emerged from the wall.
My muscles relaxed as a wave of tranquility washed over me. Every bit of alarm faded, suffocating beneath a heavy quilt of calm.
Mesmerized, I took one step up, then another. I wanted to see what was at the end of the stairs. Ineededto see.
A door appeared at the top of the stairs. Unlike the rest of the mansion, it retained its pristine condition. Gold hinges hung on the gleaming white door, matching the interwoven gold patterns crossing vertically down its center. Playful accenting danced on the carved panels on each side.
With a dizzying sort of clarity, I understood that this door was ancient. Older than the pyramids I’d climbed. Older than Stonehenge, the tombs in France, the temples in Turkey.
Only three steps separated me from the door. The smooth surface was missing a handle, but I knew it would open. If I stood close, if I touched it, the door would open for me.
A ball hit me square in the back.
I blinked, tearing my gaze away from the door. A Barbie head landed on the ground next to me. At the foot of the stairs, watching me with stricken eyes, was the housekeeper’s daughter.
Before I could move toward her, the ground dipped. I keeled to the side, grabbing the banister for support—but it was gone. The stairs, the baluster, the door. Vanished.
I looked up to find myself kneeling on flat carpet, surrounded by couches shrouded in gray sheets. My palms facing up on my thighs.
“Yasmina! What are you doing?” Khalto Safa’s voice slapped me harder than a physical blow.
I shook my head, trying to clear the strange fog that had descendedover me. “I was trying to find the balcony. I wanted … I think I wanted to see the sunrise.”
Wasn’t I looking for someone? I had the vaguest memory of a child, but the harder I tried to chase it, the faster it fled.
“The sun rose an hour ago,” Khalto Safa said. “I told you, don’t wander the house at night without me. I’ll take you where you need to go myself.” She lit a cigarette, tightening her robe around her slim figure. I used the wall to pull myself upright. A sharp pain in my toe pierced the haze. Why did my toe hurt?
The orange tip of Khalto Safa’s cigarette bobbed between her lips. “Where did you get that?” She was staring at my tiara. A strange, wild light brightened her eyes.
“Uh, I found it. Under my bed.” I extracted the prongs from my curls and held the tiara toward Khalto Safa. “Sorry, do you know who this belongs to?”
