The Girl in The Green Scarf

T h i r t y - n i n e

C H A P T E R

39

- H a m s a -

"In these times I don't know what I want; perhaps I don't want what I know and want what I don't know."
- Marsilio Ficino.

On a subconscious level, I hear the knocks on the half-closed bathroom door and I know I have to get myself together if I want to avoid questions I cannot answer.

"The table is set, Hamsa," Fatima says, yawning the door open the rest of the way. "You should come down."

She leans against the doorframe and drums her fingers on it.

Rinsing my mouth for the tenth time, I shut the water tab and cant my head in her direction. Different shades of sympathy paint her features, and I immediately know that Zayn talked to her and that she assumes that's what has me so torn.

"There's fish... your favorite." Her tone is gentle, careful.

I dry my hands on the skirt of my dress and reply monotonously. "I don't think I am up to eating anything." Especially not fish that my dead uncle sent.

She sighs, stepping into the narrow bathroom to encase me in a warm hug. I stand idly, breathing in the smell of her hair through her scarf. I feel horrible for accepting her comfort; I hurt her brother, she should be angry at me, hate me even.

She pulls away, hands squeezing my shoulders and smiles softly. "You should go home, get some rest. You can slip out the back door unnoticed."

I scrunch my eyebrows, biting my lip. "But Auntie Samiya-"

Fatima waves her hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, I'll make up an excuse for you; that you ate something spoiled at the festival and aren't feeling well."

"JazakiAllahu Khairan, Fatima," I say, clasping her hand, a faint smile finding its way to my chapped lips.

She nods and then ushers me down the stairs. "I'll send some you some food with Yahiya, in case you feel better later."

Passing the dining room, I sneak a look at the laughing, chattering crowd and my chest tightens. I feel horrible for ditching everyone and even worse for not being there for Auntie Samiya. She put a lot of effort into this Eid gathering despite everything that's going on.

She is all about celebrating the good moments as they come; but I don't feel like celebrating today and I am not up to faking every conversation and smile.

I just need to close my eyes and slip into a dreamless sleep where I can pretend none of today happened. That I didn't ruin my friendship with Zayn forever, that I didn't relive Uncle Yusuf's death and his betrayal. That I am not in this alone... because I can't speak to anyone about this other than Sebastian-who is not here.

Time is suspended as I drag my feet back home, and before I know it I'm at my street, my house only a few houses ahead. Then the door left to me opens as I pass it and Madam's Moneera's cheerful voice greets me.

"Dear darling! Eid Mubarak," she exclaims, resting down the bucket she was carrying outside. "I caught you red handed, trying to sneak back home without stopping by to visit me."

The smile on her face is so familiar, so comfortable, that I let go of my strains completely.

I quickly regret it when her smile disappears, eyebrows drawing together in worry.

"Hey, hey. Hamsa love, what's wrong?" she whispers, reaching out for me.

A stray sob escapes the jail of my lips as I throw myself into her awaiting arms. "Everything."