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It seemed my mother had been right to worry. Tío Ricardo sounded furious, and was clearly after something.
And my father had stood in the way.
PART TWOUP THE RIVER
CAPÍTULO TRECE
I woke to the clamoring sounds of the Nile coming to life. The taste of fish and mud and crocodiles in my mouth, pungent and sharp. Kareem nudged my thigh with his sandaled foot, a bundle of wet rope in his hands. Gingerly, I sat up, my limbs having fallen asleep during the night. My knees were wobbly as I stood; I flung out a hand to grip the railing of theElephantine.Everyone else had already gotten up, rushing around the deck. Some carried supplies, others busily rolled up the sleeping mats. Overhead, the bright blue of an Egyptian morning stretched in every direction.
I couldn’t appreciate any of it. I had spent a long and miserable night agonizing over what I had overheard. My mind held so many pieces of a puzzle, and none of them seemed to fit together. I’d thought about my uncle, my imagination turning him into the worst kind of villain. A scoundrel who did…what? Then I’d thought about Mr. Hayes and his quicksilver grins and empty flattery and the way his flask was always in easy reach. In my mind, they had become an untrustworthy pair with shady motives.
Best I stay far away from Mr. Hayes.
And yet.
There had been moments when I’d seen something beyond the implacable mask. The brush of his lips against my cheek. He hadn’t revealed my disobedience to hisemployer,but had kept our outing a secret. He’d stayed by my side as we explored the city, and I had felt safe, but not crowded. Looked after, but not controlled. Despite myself, I’d developed a fascination for his easy wit and direct gaze. The hint of softness and loyalty lurking under the surface. Or I could be hoping to see something nonexistent.
“Allah yesabbahhik bilkheir,” Kareem said, jerking me from my thoughts. I recognized the greeting, having heard it many times since arriving in Egypt.
“Same to you,” I said.
“When are you planning on revealing yourself to your uncle?”
We were still moored, but I sensed that the general commotion meant we were preparing to depart. Without question, I had to wait until there was no feasible way my uncle could turn back.
“Not until tomorrow at the earliest,” I said. “Is there something I can be doing to help?”
Kareem tilted his head, studying me with his wide eyes. “There’s plenty to do.”
“I’d like to help,” I repeated.
“You can assist me in the kitchen, then. I must prep breakfast for the team and crew.”
I’d never stepped foot in our kitchen back home, not even to boil water.
“I’m sure I can be useful,” I said.
“Your mother once tried to help, too.”
I froze. “What?”
“I think she was trying to pass the time. She seemed lonely.”
That didn’t make sense. Mamá had been with my father; they were inseparable. “My mother was lonely?”
Kareem nodded. “Your father studied his books a lot, or assisted with the planning. He was always off doing one thing or another. Left her by herself most of the time.”
“Assisted who? My uncle?”
Kareem nodded.
“Did you ever see my uncle and Papá argue?”
Kareem shook his head, seemingly unsurprised by the question. His face softened, his expressive eyes gazing soulfully into mine. “You look like her,” Kareem said. “I’m sorry they passed.”
My throat locked up.
“It’s good that you’re here,” he added.
