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“My brother has his good points. He will be an excellent Sultan for our people. But he has his limitations too.”
“I don’t care about his limitations,” she said with what she hoped was a breezy nonchalance.
Ra’if laughed gently. “Oh, Liv. You’re a terrible liar.” He put a hand on her knee. “Why do you not tell me what happened between the two of you?”
Her mouth was dry. “Confidentiality, remember?”
“Then leave me to draw my own conclusions.”
She shrugged. “Of course.”
And Ra’if understood. Olivia, gentle, kind Olivia, who had talked and laughed and teased him back to health, had lost her heart to Zamir.
“We were talking about you, anyway, and when you’ll leave here,” she said after she’d recovered from his direct line of questioning.
“There is no talk of my discharge yet.”
“No, but they’ve given you so much more freedom lately. Surely it’s on the cards.”
Ra’if nodded. “Perhaps.”
“Tell me what you miss about home,” she prompted, wondering if it might inspire a desire to return to his land.
“Nothing.” He laughed. “And everything. I miss the smell of the air after a sandstorm. I miss the food. You would love our food. It is rich and spiced, slow-cooked and designed to be shared, so at each meal there are many flavours. Curries and pastries and rice dishes, dips and breads.
“Sounds delicious,” she agreed.
“Our sunsets are almost always blood red. They glow like flames in the sky, sending shards of crimson across the horizon. They’re spectacular. I miss those. And I miss the singing of the Fiestral birds, at the cusp of dawn and the brink of dusk.”
“You miss home,” she said with a nod.
“Do you miss your home?” He turned the question back on her.
Olivia tilted her head to the side and contemplated the question. “I miss my sisters.” Almost as much as she missed Zamir. “But I came to America to have an adventure, and I don’t think I’m done yet.”
“Why America?”
She flicked her glasses back up on top of her head. “That’s easy. My mother was from here. So I have a passport. And I guess I wanted to spend some time in her culture. To see what her life was like.”
“And?”
She shrugged. “Like I said, I’m not done exploring yet.” Her eyes landed on a bird in the distance, teasing something from the grass with his bright yellow beak. “That’s the thing about the future. It’s all a mystery. I don’t know what’s in store. Later today, tomorrow, next week or next year. Nor do you. But you can’t hide out forever, Ra’if. At some point, you have to roll up your sleeves and plunge into it, regardless of what dangers await. That’s the nature of life. You have to live it, even without a safety net.”
* * *
“Ra’if is doing well, father. It will soon be time for him to return.”
Faisal grunted. “He should have been here all along.”
Zamir scanned the immaculately maintained quince grove beyond his father’s window. “The facility in Nevada is the best of its kind.”
“Then we should build better,” he swore gruffly. “He is too far from us.”
“Yes, but he has been left to recover without the curiosity of our people. There has been no risk of photographers making money from his story. He has been a private citizen. You know, as well as I, what that must have meant to him.”
“Yes,” Faisal waved a shaking hand in the air. His fingers were long and lean, like Zamir’s.
“You can imagine how it would have played in the press. You in hospital, and Ra’if in rehab.” Zamir grimaced. “You are the one who always says we must maintain the appearance of strength even when we are weakened by life.”
