CHAPTER 2
The scent of cardamom tea wafted from the various stalls, mingling with the distant hum of a call to prayer. This was Amelia’s world—unchanging and safe, a cocoon of traditions that felt as old as the dunes themselves.
Her visit to see her family was more than she could have bargained for with her husband. He had bid her farewell with a subtle smile and a knowing look, one that hadn’t bothered her until now. She shrugged it off.
Time had passed, but she was certain her father would welcome her with open arms. She imagined her siblings, by now, had grown into teenagers.
After two years, not much had changed in the central market square. She tightened her scarf and adjusted the strap of her bag, which held a few clothes and a lot of gifts for the family. She weaved through the familiar surroundings and saw that her family’s house was still in good condition. She could have burst into tears of joy, but she didn’t want to do so in front of everyone.
As she approached the entrance, the familiar stone archway stood tall, unchanged, as if the house had stood still in time. The vibrant scent of jasmine from the garden blended with the earthy undertones of the market. Amelia paused for a moment to take it all in—the soft whispers of the wind, the distant chatter of neighbors, the unbroken rhythm of life here.
Stepping inside, the quiet weight of home wrapped itself around her like a comforting embrace. The hallway felt narrower somehow, as though time had compressed the space between her past and present. Her heart pounded with anticipation. She allowed herself one fleeting moment to imagine the joy that would greet her—the familiar faces she had missed so much.
She heard voices from the kitchen—laughter, the sound of a kettle boiling, the rhythmic clink of silverware against plates. Amelia’s breath caught in her throat. She recognized that laugh, the familiar tone of her father’s voice, a sound that had once been a constant in her life.
It was enough to make Amelia smile, even through the ache in her chest. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. The door creaked open, and there he was.
Her father stood in the doorway, tall and proud, his graying hair unmistakable beneath his headscarf. His gaze softened when he saw her, but before she could say anything, he spoke, his voice thick with emotion.
“What are you doing here, Amelia?” His question was sharp, laden with years of uncertainty. “Why have you come?”
Though his words were sharp, they didn’t sound as harsh as they seemed. Beneath the initial shock was something deeper—perhaps worry, perhaps guilt. But they stung all the same.
Amelia stood still for a moment, unsure how to respond. Her mind raced, unsure whether to explain the sudden urge to return, the quiet desperation to reconnect. How could she explain everything that had happened since she left?
She opened her mouth, but the words caught in her throat. There was so much to say, but she couldn’t find the right words. Instead, she stepped forward, her voice trembling slightly as she said,
“I’ve missed you, Father.”
The words felt too simple for everything that had led her here, but they were all she could manage.
Before she could speak again, she heard her sister’s voice—sharp and teasing.
“Who’s that, Abba?” she called from behind him. Her tone shifted the moment she saw Amelia, her lips curling downward.
“Go back inside, child,” her father scolded. She ran off. A lump rose in Amelia’s throat. She stood frozen, unsure whether to call out to her sister.
“You can’t be here, Amelia.” Her father’s words pierced her like a sword. Amelia saw her brother peeking through the window before quickly shutting it when caught.
There was no explaining this feeling.
“There are gifts for you, and…” she began, but her father swallowed forcibly before replying.
“…but they won’t be necessary. It would be best to go back to your husband’s house to avoid causing shame to the family.”
The door closed quietly behind him.
The world spun as Amelia realized there was no way out.
After sitting in the garden for more than an hour, she left the gifts at the foot of the door.
She walked away from the life she once knew, her footsteps slow and heavy. She didn’t know what to expect, but she knew where she had to go next—Dialli’s home.
“Ah, my precious jewel.” He turned around and greeted her with an outstretched hand. She remembered how disgusted she used to feel at the sight of his chubby hands—but not anymore. She genuflected and kissed his medallion ring.
His smile was knowing, but not one of triumph. It was the smile of two people who understood the game they played, the roles they had to assume. They both knew the truth: she had nowhere else to go. She had no one else but him. Survival was key.
“Welcome home, Amelia,” he whispered, and she nodded, her throat tight as she let the facade slip into place.
—–
12:45 am. The alarm goes off.
I noticed a steamy atmosphere and remembered I had left the kettle on for another cup of coffee. I swung into action to turn it off, but then realized I had never switched it on. Puzzled, I checked all the appliances. Nothing seemed amiss. I shrugged and moved to open the windows.
Suddenly, I felt woozy. I tried to lean on something for support, but I collapsed. I was very much aware of my surroundings but couldn’t seem to move.
The annoying, familiar voices rushed in, and my anxiety began to build—my heart pounded, my head throbbed, and I remained immobile. I thought of death, how I had once smirked at my father’s grave and never forgiven many people in my life. Was this how I would end, without so much as a goodbye? Who would show up for my burial? I had no relations left, and I’d cut ties with my late husband’s wives. If I could cry, I would have. I had lived such a lonely, pathetic life and masked it with a tough exterior. I whimpered, just like I did as a child.
The voices grew deeper and louder. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but I understood them at the same time. All terrible words.
“I look up unto the hills from whence cometh my help…”
There it was again. Those words.
Silence.
I gasped. My body twitched, and I sat up. I felt pain all over, but there was an undeniable sense of peace.
I looked around—no more smoke.
“Who’s there?” I panted. No sound. Oh my gosh. WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!
I didn’t know what to do. I grabbed my phone and a jacket and fled. I didn’t know where I was going, but it sure wasn’t back to that apartment. I found a well-lit street, with commuters likely on their way to work. I felt safe there.