“Yeah, she’s a tough one.” He gently caresses her hair to the side. “Always has been. I think she hates herself for screaming so much, which shows you how much pain she was in.”
I feel guilty. “I’m sorry.”
“I wasn’t trying to blame you! It must have been hard on you too.”
“Ask him again. Where do you know him from?” Khawf interjects, blowing out silver smoke.
I continue ignoring him.
“Do it, and I won’t bother you again tonight.”
Please go away, I beg in my mind.
“Are you really satisfied with that stutter of a reply? Any fool would know he’s hiding something. What if it’s bad? What if it’s something that could harm you?”
I shoot him a furious look. He doesn’t seem abashed in the slightest.
“You’re here, all alone, for the whole night. And even if Layla knew where you were, how much help do you think a pregnant girl would be? All you have is your scalpel.” He straightens, eyeing Kenan up and down. “And judging by his physique, even though you’re both starving, he could overpower you in five seconds. Three, if you don’t resist.”
The back of my neck breaks out in sweat. Why does he do this to me? Wedge every doubt and dread in my brain until all I can think about is what he’s saying.
Kenan Aljendi. His name sounds so familiar. Where have I heard it before?
“He knows you,” Khawf presses on. “He recognized you. That gives him the upper hand. I bet he already knew your name. He didn’t ask you aboutyourlast name.”
Shit, he has a point.
I clear my throat. The rational part of my brain knows Kenan won’t harm me, but the other part is annoyed he’s hiding something.
“Kenan. I’m sorry, but I feel like we really have met.” I leave no room for negotiation in my tone.
The candlelight flickers across his clouded eyes.
“I told you we haven’t,” he insists.
I stare at him, my gaze turning colder by the second. “I’m pretty sure we have.”
He sighs loudly and stands. My body instantly goes into defense mode, but the surgical bag is a bit far away for me to grab a scalpel from. Even if I were to stand, he’d still be much taller than me, and I hate that. I should have listened to my gut and walked home, snipers and all.
Calm down!
“I’m not lying, Salama, when I say we haven’t met.” He turns around to look at me. Khawf enjoys this immensely, glancing from me to Kenan and back to me.
“Then?” I feel vulnerable from my place on the floor.
“We haven’t met because we never got the chance to.”
You know what? I’m going to stand too.
“Can you please stop talking in code?”
He looks at me pointedly. “We were supposed to meet for coffee about a year ago.”
Coffee.
Friday.
Layla’s blue kaftan.
