A lump of emotion lodges in Shay's throat and prevents her from speaking. She rises and takes a moment to gather herself, drying the wall and sweeping the glass. Her hands shake. She clenches them. Splays them open. Tries to shake the feeling that she's standing high on the edge of a cliff, water rushing so far beneath her, it sounds less like a roar and more like a purr.
Finally, she sits back down and says the words she still finds hard to believe. “She's gone.”
Not missing a beat, Hind smiles cruelly. “Traveling?”
“No.” Shay searches Hind's face, trying to glean where these questions are coming from. Her stomach twines around a pit of unease. “Mukhtar Jawad raided her dwelling, and—”
“Oh,” Hind says with fake sympathy. “Someone must have turned her in for stealing that baby. But who would do such a thing?”
Horror seeps over Shay, the unapologetic look on Hind's face saying everything she isn't. Then Hind has the gall to laugh.
“Why? Do you understand that they killed her?”
Hind lowers her head. She shrugs one bony shoulder. “Sometimes the best way to get yourself out of trouble is to get someone else in it.”
“Do you have any idea how heartless you sound?” Shay wishes Hind could only see herself, that she had some kind of magic mirror that shows people the magnitude of their own cruelty.
“Don't judge me.” Hind jerks her head up, eyes wild. “I could have killed you before you were born. Your precious midwife would have given me the right herbs, had I asked. Would have saved us both some grief, don't you think?”
Shay leans back so far, her balance tips. She finds herself on the floor, gasping for a breath that doesn't come. She understands now, why Ghita wanted to send her to Kiddah. She must have known that had Shay stayed, she and her mother would have connected, sometime, somehow, and that Shay would only suffer as a result.
“Look how weak you are,” Hind goads. “How can you even be my daughter?”
Shay snaps.
She springs to her feet and paces the length of the room. “All I ever wanted was for you to love me. I've seen countless children born and watched women from all manner of backgrounds and circumstances bond with their babies. It's a love that comes naturally to any woman.
“Except you,” she spits. “You failed to do that one, most basic thing. And then you take away the only woman who has ever come close to loving me the way you should have.” Shay comes to a stop, her fists vibrating. “I swear by the One, I don't know why I keep choosing you. You're never, ever going to choose me back, are you?”
“If I'm so horrible, leave me to my suffering,” Hind says, her voice brittle. She leans back on her pillows with one arm thrown across her face, hiding any expression she may wear. “I'm too tired to deal with you.”
“You're too tired?” Shay sputters. “I haven't slept in days because I've been so worried about you. I lost my dearest friend helping you escape!”
“Did I ask you to rescue me?” the touched one whispers, barely audible.
“So what?” Shay stomps her foot. “You're going to confess this terrible thing and then roll over and go to sleep?”
“Shhh,” Hind murmurs groggily. “Emotional strain is bad for the baby. Or didn't Ghita teach you that?”
How dare she utter the midwife's name? Even the truth of her words isn't enough to stop Shay from screaming in frustration. Feet pound up the stairs. Deebi bursts in. “Lallati, are you well?”
Shay shakes her head, trying not to cry. Trying not to scream again. Trying not to bang her head repeatedly against the wall.
Deebi approaches her slowly, scanning for any sign of injury. “Just take a deep breath, and tell me what's wrong.”
All Shay can do is point a finger toward her mother, curled on the pallet and already—unbelievably—snoring.
Deebi nods as if that's a perfectly comprehensive explanation. “Whatever she did, whatever she said, she doesn't mean it. She's overwhelmed by the pain of the cravings, that's all.”
“It's no excuse.” Shay sighs. She'd rather conclude Snow altered her mother's decision-making ability than that she's just devoid of morals. But Hind isn't making it easy to be so generous, not when her hands are dripping with Ghita's blood.
“You haven't stopped working all day,” he says. “Go relax for a while. I'll watch over her.”
Shay hugs herself, exhaustion humming through her body. “Are you sure?”
“I've got this.”
Shay smooths her hands down her kaftan and over her hair. “I guess I could start lunch.”
