Page 66 of Burdens
“Just get here. I’ll explain everything then,” I replied and hung up.
When I looked up, I found Amalia leaning against the hood of the car, watching me with an unreadable expression on her face.
She pushed herself off without a word and rounded the car, then slid into the driver’s seat. I opened the passenger door and settled into the seat beside her, then handed the phone back to her.
She grabbed it from me, our fingers brushing in the process, and dropped it into the door pocket. She started the car, cranking the A/C up to counter the fact that some of the windows were now incapacitated, and put her hand on the stick shift.
I waited for her to reverse the car, but instead, she surprised me—and her—by asking, “Everything okay?”
I turned my face toward her. “Yeah,” I started, feeling the burden of the impending conversation weighing heavily on my shoulders. “At least I hope it will be.”
She looked at me for another beat before nodding and reversing the car into the small alley behind.
We drove through the bustling streets of the city, Amalia maneuvering through the street vendors’ carts piled high with goods and weaving through the throngs of pedestrians.
We were nearing the end of August and tomorrow was one of the main holidays in the country, so everyone was out to get their last-minute items for the celebration that would last the next four days.
After a few miles, Amalia turned onto a quieter side street and drove down the road until she turned into an alley andparked behind an older building near the entrance to the old city’s marketplace.
Turning the engine off, she grabbed the black cell phone on her way out of the car, her fingers flying over the small keyboard. Then she broke the phone in half and threw it into the dumpster she’d parked in front of.
She reached for a bag I hadn’t noticed before in the back seat and pulled clothes from it. She tossed a short-sleeved thobe and a baseball cap my way, ordering me to put them on.
I did as told, slipping the chocolate brown thobe over my clothes. Then I brushed my hair back, secured the hat over my head, and walked over to her as she pulled a lighterdjellabaover her own clothes and closed the back door.
Suddenly, she grabbed my hand, intertwined our fingers together, and simply said, “Let’s go. We don’t have all day.”
I didn’t question it, reveling in her skin against mine, and followed as she guided us into the maze of alleyways.
CHAPTER 18
NOAH (PRESENT)
We weavedthrough the bustling chaos, dodging locals and tourists alike left and right. The hot and humid air was thick around us, mixed with the aroma of sizzling meat and fragrant spices at every turn.
I hadn’t gone to a market like this since I was a child and the sudden nostalgia of coming to a place like this with my mother washed over me.
I didn’t have time to dwell on the feeling when Amalia stopped short in front of a store nestled in the far corner of an alley, her grip on my hand suddenly gone.
Startled, I looked over at Amalia, only to find her already pushing the curtains of the store apart and disappearing into its depth.
With a heavy sigh, I shook off the feeling of the loss of her hand in mine and followed right after her.
Once inside, a strong wool scent and the faint hint of incense greeted me, soft notes of Arabic music drifting in the space. Colorful and patterned rugs covered every inch of the store.
At first sight, you’d think the place was tiny, but it seemed endless as I kept walking the long corridor. I moved farther into the store until I noticed the back of Amalia’s head.
She was standing in front of Nassim and another woman, who I assumed to be his wife. She was about the same build as Amalia but slightly shorter than her, with long, curly brown hair that was pulled back into a ponytail.
The three of them were exchanging greetings as I made my way over to them. Nassim glanced at me over Amalia’s head with a smile on his face. “Glad to see she hasn’t murdered you in your sleep,” he said, winking at Amalia.
I huffed out a laugh and returned his smile with a small one of my own. “I wouldn’t speak too soon,” I replied as I reached them and stood right behind Amalia.
I heard her groan at my comment and the woman next to Nassim looked between him and me, shaking her head.
“Hey,” I said, brandishing my hand forward to shake Nassim’s. My front brushed against Amalia’s back in the process, but she didn’t move despite her stiff posture. It probably didn’t mean anything, but I’d be delusional and take it as a win.
“Hello to you too,” Nassim began, shaking my hand once before letting it go. He looked at the woman next to him with a soft expression on his face as he put his hand on the small of her back. “This is my beautiful wife, Daniela. Daniela, this is Noah, my cousin I told you about last night.”
