CHAPTER

23

HIS MOTHER. Looking like a lovely young woman, hair in black scrolls against the wind. Her smile fresh and wide. Like the stories from her childhood, how she swam in the wild herbs that grew on their hill, how she outran the boys, ran till she couldn’t feel her legs beneath her.

And the boy.

The two of them reunited. Sitting in the audience. Right there, there.

Hands at his sides, Hafez stood fixed to his spot beside the arena. His heart pounded. He watched them talking, leaning toward each other.

“Yemmah,” he said.

Someone brushed by. A guard, a group of men in white knickers. He looked back, staring; his eyes burned with not blinking. He watched his mother lift her hands, clapping. He saw her shift in his direction and turn into his niece, Amani.

The boy beside her was now an old man.