“Teta!” Sami ran to her grandmother, threw her arms around her, and gave her three fluttering kisses on each cheek—just the way Teta had taught her to do when Sami was a little girl. It was their special kiss. But now Teta just seemed to be confused by it.

“Sami—Tony! How on earth did you two get here?” Her mother held a dress and hanger in each hand. Her eyes looked red.

“Yes, and what exactly do you think you’re doing here?” Ivory put a fist on one hip. “We’re trying to get your grandmother settled in—with as little upset and disruption as possible.”

“You mean you wanted to sneak her in here,” Sami responded coolly.

“Ah, I’ll be going now.” The receptionist ducked her head and backed out quickly, pulling the door shut.

“Samara!” her mother snapped. “Apologize to your aunt this instant.”

“All right, fine. I’m sorry, Aunt Ivory,” she recited. “I shouldn’t have been rude. But, Mom, please—please—just wait a minute. You don’t know the whole story.” She swiveled back to her grandmother. “It’s okay now, Teta—you can talk again! It’s safe to come out. I know what you did—how you were scrambling up your words, trying to protect Ashrafieh. But you don’t have to do it any longer—Silverworld is safe. The Nixie, she’s gone for good.” Sami was about to say a mermaid ate her, but she glanced up and noticed Ivory, her mother, and Tony gaping at her.

“Sami, please,” her mother said in a too gentle voice. “This isn’t the time for Teta’s fairy stories. You’ve got to accept the facts. Your grandmother isn’t well. In fact, she hasn’t spoken at all since last night—” Alia broke off, her voice cracking slightly, and Sami realized with a shock that her cool, strong mother was on the verge of tears. “This isn’t easy for any of us, believe me. But we’ve decided to go with this facility because—well, I’m afraid for her! And I think they’ll give her the sort of care she really needs.”

Sami ignored the fearful dropping sensation she felt in her stomach. Instead, she turned briskly toward her grandmother. “Teta, do you hear what my mom is saying? She doesn’t think you should be at home—with us. Don’t you have anything to say to that?”

Her grandmother’s face was a complete blank. Sami wanted to shake her, stamp her feet, shout WAKE UP as loud as she could. But she realized nothing like that would really work. Fighting off her own tears, Sami remembered how, when something was difficult, Dorsom told her to make her mind quiet. She closed her eyes and squeezed Teta’s hands as she thought as hard as she could: Please, please come back. I know you’re in there.

Sami opened her eyes. There was a long, awful moment of silence. Alia sighed. Finally, Teta’s lips parted, but she produced only a tiny, grating sound, as if her voice no longer worked at all. Sami’s heart dipped. She heard Ivory saying quietly, “We really should finish moving her in now. She’s probably pretty tired out.”

“No, you’re right,” Alia said. “It was a long morning.”

“Everything look okay in here?” An orderly in a white jumpsuit appeared in the door, startling Sami. He had warm brown eyes and a kind smile. Sami noticed his nameplate said DORSEY. “Can I help with anything?”

“Oh, we’re fine—just sorting some things out—” Ivory started to send him away.

“Merci…Dorsey,” a voice interrupted from behind Sami. The sound was small and hesitant, yet quite clear. “But that…won’t be necessary.”

A hesitant smile broke across Sami’s face as she turned around. Teta was sitting straight up with her arms crossed over her plump chest, her chin raised. The bells of her sleeves fell back, revealing the rows of faded, lacy tribal tattoos along the backs of her arms and circling her fingers. “Almost…two years…without putting…two words together. You’d think…I’d get a few seconds…to start speaking again.”

“Mother?” Alia’s eyes were wide and her lip trembled. “Ummi?”

Teta smiled wryly. “Yes…daughter. I’m right here.”

Alia said something in Arabic that Teta answered in Arabic, and Sami realized she’d somehow understood.

Alia had said, This must be a dream.

Teta had answered, Not at all, my daughter….You’re wide awake.

Then she held open her arms and Alia lowered herself into them with a sob. “I don’t understand,” she cried. “How is this possible?”

Teta faced Sami, her eyes wet. “It was my granddaughter over there….She understood…that…I was in prison. She kept trying…struggling…until she freed me.”

Shaking her head, Alia held both her mother’s hands in her own. “But we saw doctors, speech therapists, psychologists! Dozens of tests and assessments. No one knew what was wrong with you. You mean to tell me that Sami could figure out something that none of the experts could?”

“Experts!” Teta tossed her head. She seemed to be growing stronger by the moment. “None of them…cared about me…the way Sami did. None of them had the key….But Sami worked on it. She wouldn’t give up…even when everyone else said I’d never learn to speak again.” She gave Ivory a significant look, and Sami’s aunt turned away, scowling, her face reddening. “The only reason…I’m here talking my foolish head off right now…is because my granddaughter freed me.”

“But—but—what key?” Alia’s face swung from Sami to Teta and back again. “I don’t understand. What did you do?”

Sami opened her palms as if to show she didn’t hold any magic tricks. “We worked on it together, me and Teta, step by step. At first, I thought Teta was sick or something was, like, broken in her body. But then I realized she was fine—that it was more, like, a decision she made, in her head. She didn’t think it was safe to talk—not out loud, not even in her thoughts.”

“A…decision?” Alia looked so baffled, Sami decided to take a different approach.

She laced her fingers together, saying, “Maybe, even, it was sort of like the way I felt about moving to Florida? Okay, I know that sounds weird, but wait. It was like, I used to tell myself there wasn’t anything good here—that I could never love it like New York or feel like it was home home, or whatever. I didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t help it. I needed time to find out that it really was okay here too. Like, sort of to let myself be happy here? So, it’s like once Teta felt like everything was safe, I knew she would start talking again.”

Ivory stared at Sami, incredulous. “You mean—all that time—your grandmother could have spoken?”

Teta cut in with her delicate smile. “Physically, yes. But it wasn’t a choice—there were people I had to protect. I couldn’t even think about them.”

“People? In Lebanon, you mean? Memories from the war?” Alia asked softly.

“In both worlds,” Teta said, and raised her eyebrows at Sami.

“So you pushed them away. Suppressed everything…” Alia shook her head. “I’ve heard of people doing that. I mean, after Joe died, I couldn’t even—” Her voice trembled. Sami held her breath, gazing at her mother—it was the first time in ages she’d heard her say Sami’s father’s name. “Oh, I just miss him, that’s all.” Alia smiled then and pushed a stray hair behind Sami’s ear. “Still, it’s amazing. Really, for you to be speaking again? To reverse all of that silence, after so long? I can hardly believe any of it.”

Sami knew her mother’s powerful litigator’s mind was at work—smart and skeptical, filled with questions and interrogations. In the long run, Sami knew, Alia wouldn’t be satisfied with this answer. She would have to tell her the whole truth someday. And she did want to explain Silverworld to her mother, she realized, but not just yet.

Still, at that moment, all her mistrust seemed to subside. Alia laughed and hugged her daughter. “Oh, who cares! Your teta is talking again. It’s a true miracle is what it is. Explain it to me or don’t explain it to me. I don’t think I’ll ever understand what happened in a million years.”

The orderly in the doorway cleared his throat discreetly and said, “So, will you all be needing help packing everything back up again?”

Sami smiled at him and nodded. “Teta is coming home.”