“Then what?” the boy asks.
Kenan leans in a bit closer, his voice hushed, and I take another step forward. “Well, the girl wanted to keep the diamond her mother gave her safe. And the boy wanted to find his grandfather. The pirates had the answers to both these things, and so—” He stops and turns around, catching the look of awe on my face. “Salama. Good morning.”
“M-morning.”
If he’s still thinking about how I shouted at him yesterday, he doesn’t show it. “How are you?”
I play with the ends of my hijab. “Alhamdulillah.”
He looks at me softly. “Is there anything you need?”
You. I need you to leave with me.“No,” I reply instead.
He smiles and stands, taking something out of his pocket. He holds out his hand. It’s a neatly folded piece of paper. “Open it.”
I do and softly gasp. He’s drawn the ocean forest. Colossal trees surrounding a little girl, leaves fluttering in the wind. At her side is a small fish with stripes along its body.
“That’s a flame angelfish,” Kenan points out. “I thought she’d have a friend the color of flames. Could light the way when it gets dark.”
My pulse quickens, and I hug the paper to my chest. “Thank you.”
He scratches the back of his neck, his cheeks pink. “I wanted to cheer you up after—you know.”
“I’m going to treasure this forever.” I manage a brave smile.
He returns it and then gestures to the little boy. “Would you like to hear the story with him?”
I laugh. “Yes.”
Standing beside the eager little boy, I tuck the drawing in my pocket and watch the way Kenan lights up. He commands the words, injecting each with wonder, and soon enough we’re surrounded by people, all huddling closer, wanting to forget their pain and escape into another world. Kenan stands up, his voice getting louder as he conjures ships that fly and magical lemons that revive you from the brink of death. He’s captivating, a natural-born storyteller.
But with each word, a heaviness falls on my heart and I slowly back away through the crowd until all I can see is his disheveled hair and broad shoulders. It hurts to see him, a dead man walking, when he has the power to influence the world.
I turn around, but before I make it out of the atrium, Kenan calls my name. The people behind him are talking among themselves and they go back to their beds and families, their eyes shining a little brighter. Two people clap Kenan on the back, and he smiles at them. He walks over to me, his brows furrowed, and I’m rooted to the spot, every cell wanting him near me.
“Is something wrong?” he asks.
There’s a dull ache reverberating behind my eyes, threatening to spill the tears.
“What do you think, Kenan?” I whisper. Everything’s written freely on my face for him to read.
He closes his eyes for a second, catching on to my thoughts. “Salama,” he begins. His tone is low, almost choked. “I—you have to realize this is difficult.”
I feel as if I’m standing on shaking ground. “You think it’seasyfor me to leave? My mother is buried here! My father too. My brother—” I stop, covering my face with my hands, forcing myself to take deep breaths.
Please, God, let him die. Let him find that peace.
Kenan is still staring at me with anguish when I look back at him.
“We are stripped from our choices, so we latch onto what will ensure our survival.” I push away all my emotion. My voice comes out calculating and cold. “The world is not sweet or kind. The ones outside are waiting to eat us and pick their teeth with our bones. That’s what they’ll do to your siblings. So we do everything to make sure we and our loved ones survive. Whatever it takes.”
Fear breaks out behind his irises, but whatever he’s about to say next disappears when his vision trails behind me, his eyes widening with horror.
I turn around to see Yusuf carrying Lama in his skeleton-like arms, and I wonder how he managed to make it all the way from their home. Kenan runs toward them, his terror infecting me. Lama’s eyes are half-closed, her dry lips hanging open. Kenan takes her from Yusuf, cradles her head against his shoulder, and looks back at me wildly.
“Bring her here.” I gesture to an empty yellow bed, and he sets her down gently, murmuring words of love while brushing her hair back before taking her hands in his and pressing them to his lips, praying. Yusuf stands beside him, his own face white with terror and his lower lip trembling.
“What happened?” Kenan asks Yusuf, who shakes his head, motioning with his hands.
