“Thank you,” I say, but she doesn’t hear me, already off to help another doctor.
My head begins to feel dizzy, so I take out the needle before I collapse. I’ve learned the hard way when enough is enough.
I turn to stare at Am, who’s watching me curiously. His dislike for me is still there, but there’s something else. Gratitude. Even though he’s trying his best to hide it.
My mouth feels dry, but I force myself to speak. “You will get a boat for Layla and me. And it’s not going to be four thousand dollars.”
He barks out a harsh laugh. “What makes you think I’ll keep my word? You’ve already saved her life. Unless you’re thinking of slashing her throat. But then again, it wouldn’t surprise me after what you did. What do you think Dr. Ziad would say if he knew about this?”
My chest hurts at the thought. I shove Am’s insults down into the darkest corners of my heart. I’ll be a coward if it means Layla makes it out alive.
I nod to the stitches on his daughter’s neck. Her black hair is matted, sticking to the blood on her forehead. “You need medications.”
He lets out an incredulous laugh. “And you’ll only give them to me when I secure you a boat.”
“We’ll be providing you with enough antibiotics to keep the infection away, but there’s only so much Panadol we’ll be able to give. Everyone around here needs it. I can give you more than the hospital will. And believe me, Samar will need them. That pain will not disappear easily.”
I’d have to sacrifice the two Panadol boxes I’ve been saving for Layla and me. But as long as we get to Germany, it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.
His jaw tightens, his expression still sour. “You can’t just have two free seats. Money is needed for the journey there. I’ve told you we need to bribe every guard on the tens of borders from here to Tartus.”
I take a minute to think about it. He’s right. The road is scattered with borders where the soldiers stationed there can drag anyone away.
I stick my chin out. “I’ll give you a gold necklace along with a thousand dollars. The necklace is worth about a thousand dollars. Will that work?”
I was with Mama when we bought it as part of Layla’s dowry.
He purses his lips, mulling it over. “Yes.”
On the bed, Samar’s breaths wheeze out slowly, and I check her heartbeat to find it returning to normal.
“My blood runs through her veins now,” I say in a low voice. Nausea is tight and heavy on my tongue. A side effect of giving my blood. “I’m a part of her. You owe me.”
He sits down heavily on the plastic chair and takes Samar’s tiny hand in his rough one. “Be here tomorrow at nine a.m. with the money and gold.” He pauses and looks at me, half disbelieving. “I shouldn’t have underestimated you, Salama. You’re more vicious than you look.”
I press my hand over the puncture in the crevice of my elbow. “No one knows about this.”
“Obviously.”
“Stay here. I’ll go get you the antibiotics.”
He laughs humorlessly. “I’m not leaving my daughter, Salama. Not when her life is in your hands.”
I walk away, quickly wiping the tears forming in my eyes, and press my shaking hands to my chest.
What did I do?
Before going back to get the medications, I wash my hands. I scrub until the red isn’t from blood but from rawness as my skin protests with discomfort.
Then, alone in the tiny stockroom, I clutch my stomach and sink to the ground. My trembling doesn’t stop, and the tears, spurred by my mountain-sized guilt, blur my vision. What would Mama say? Hamza? My brother, who was going to be a resident at this hospital?
I used a little girl’s life as collateral. I risked her life.
“You did what you had to do,” Khawf says behind me. “And it worked. Hamza would understand. And even if he didn’t, these are dangerous times. You need to live.”
“Samar could have died.” I hiccup. “I was going to have an innocent girl’s murder on my conscience.”
“But shedidn’t,” Khawf points out. “She’s alive, and you have your boat. Now get up, wipe your nose, and give Am his antibiotics for today. This is all for Layla, remember?”
