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Zarif. It was the voice of his son. And he was crying.
Urgency seized Qazim. He dressed himself quickly in shirt and pants and shoes.
He strode out into the hallway of his suite, intent on doing what he knew he needed to do.
The only thing which made sense.
He paused at the door for a moment and looked down the narrow hallway. The door to the other room at the end of the corridor was open.
The door he'd deliberately left closed when Grace had arrived, because he hadn't wanted her to see what was inside.
What he had created.
Qazim walked slowly along the corridor and paused at the open door, his hand resting on the handle.
He looked inside and smiled.
The nursery was still as he'd left it. Still exactly as he'd ordered it.
It was a colorful room. Walls had been brightly painted. There was a profusion of toys and soft cushions around the room. In the middle of the room, there was a large cot, perfect for Zarif to sleep in.
When he moved in, Qazim told himself.
And his son would move in. There was no doubt about that anymore.
Qazim had created this room so that he and Grace and Zarif could live together in this suite, from now on.
He knew Grace must have looked in here, briefly, before she'd gone back to take care of Zarif. He knew she must have seen what he'd created here. Now she knew what his real intentions were, what he wanted for all three of them.
He wondered what her reaction had been like. Had she been shocked or even pleasantly surprised.
He wanted to know. And the only way he would know would be if he went along to Grace's suite.
Even though it was the middle of the night, he needed to know what she thought. In the process, Qazim would see how Zarif was. Quell any concerns he felt.
He realized a knot of anxiety had settled in his stomach. There was no noise from further along the corridor, but he knew he needed to go there.
He left the nursery room door open and went out into the corridor. It was silent.
He started along the corridor, urgency welling up within him as she strode closer to Grace's suite.
Finally, he reached the door. He hesitated a moment and gathered his thoughts. He could simply walk in. But he knew better than to do that. Hadn't he promised never to do that?
But then he heard Zarif's voice, and his mind was made up for him in an instant.
Qazim pushed the door open and took one step into the room. He halted and gazed across the expanse of the suite's main room.
Grace was standing in the middle of the room. She was dressed in a plain, loose fitting white nightdress. She held Zarif in her arms, his little head resting against her shoulder.Qazim could see that Zarif's eyes were closed. He looked so peaceful there like that, he told himself.
Qazim searched for any sight of Anya and saw none. Grace was alone with Zarif.
Grace turned to Qazim and her eyes widened as she looked at him standing by the open door. "Qazim!" she exclaimed.
He stood still, unwilling to take a further step into the room.
"Grace. Is Zarif okay?" Qazim asked urgently, peering at Zarif.
Grace smiled and moved Zarif gently from side to side. "He was just hungry," she explained. "He gets kinda noisy when that happens."
