His stare darts over the hallway as he takes in the shabbiness. He says nothing, and I detect sadness in his expression.
“Are you sure she’s fine?” he asks again. “I can go get you something. Like… bread or milk if they have it at the grocery.”
I shake my head. “Thank you. We’re fine. She’s doing good.”
He exhales. “All right. I guess… this is goodbye.”
I chew on my tongue, feeling a bit crestfallen at that word. How I hate it.Goodbye.
“Right,” I say instead.
He nods at me before opening the door and looks back one more time. “Thank you, Salama, for everything. You’ve not only saved Lama’s life but you’ve saved mine and Yusuf’s too.”
He smiles, green eyes bright and warm.
For now, I think.
He slips through the door and the incoherent thought that’s been forming in the back of my mind finally makes its way to my mouth.
“Kenan!” I shout. He stops a few feet away.
“Yes?” he asks, and I swear I can hear hope.
I walk toward him, rubbing my arms. I can save him and his siblings. I know I can.
“Record at the hospital,” I say when I’m close enough that I can see the two freckles on his neck.
He looks taken aback. “What?”
“Come to the hospital and record the injured. You say you want to help, right? Show the world what’s happening? Well, nothing screams injustice more than that. The protests are usually at night. And because it’s dark, the visibility isn’t that good. But at the hospital, you’d… It’ll be more impactful.” My voice trails off into a quiet whisper.
His eyes soften at my words and he stares at me for a long minute before saying, “Why?”
“Why?” I echo.
“You’ve made it clear you think what I’m doing is dangerous. Why do you want me doing more of that, closer to you?”
I crack my knuckles, looking for a way to drain the anxiety building in my blood.
Because when you see the people who are dying. When you see the mutilated children and you hear them crying with fear and pain. Maybe then you’ll know how lucky you are that you are okay. That you can leave.
Instead, I fix him with a cool stare. “My thinking it’s dangerous has nothing to do with the fact that I love my country and I don’t want to see more people murdered.”
His ears turn red and he covers his face with one hand. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
I shake my head. “It’s fine. I know you didn’t mean it like that. Look, I’m not forcing you. Do you want to do this?”
His arm falls, and I’m met once again with his brilliant green eyes. “Yes,” he says. I feel a shiver run up and down my back. “Yes, I want to.”
I let out a relieved breath. “Good. We have to ask Dr. Ziad’s permission, but I doubt he’ll mind. He’s all for this war.”
“Revolution, Salama,” Kenan says. His smile is sad. “It’s a revolution.”
I purse my lips. “Be at the hospital tomorrow at nine.”
As I walk back inside, I see Layla standing right in front of the door with the biggest grin I’ve ever seen on her.
“Kenan, huh?” She wiggles her eyebrows and I groan. “You sounded awfully cozy there. I was this close to opening the door and marching over there myself to see what was happening.”
