Tahira,
Papa won’t look at any of us. Mama won’t stop crying. I know you are angry, but it won’t do to stay there. We can help you take care of it. They only want their daughter back. And I want my sister, my friend.
Our caravan moves southeast in two nights. It will be the quarter moon of winter’s end when we arrive. We will stay for three dozen days. This should reach you in time, so please come back to us. I have heard Ibrahim seeks another wife. The king’s son! A better man than that animal who took your future with his fine clothes and gleaming crown.
Do you know what those sea-people call us? Salt chasers. As if that is what we want! They can’t understand that we don’t wander to pursue riches; we journey to chase our desires. And we always get that for which we hunt.
If you don’t come home, I will search for you. And him.
Zahar
—Unopened letter, found deep under sand