“May our dear Jandal rest in peace. May his remaining years be added to your life,” I said to his sister, to which she responded warmly, “And to your life.” I would have hugged Ghassan too, but we both refrained because we knew his traditional sister would not approve. The twins were there, finishing each other’s sentences as usual to tell me Wadee had gotten engaged.

“This is Rula, my fiancée,” Wadee said, his pride irrepressible. Her hair was dyed blond and she wore green contact lenses. Wadee floated, affectionately waiting on her every need, though I did not get the same sense of devotion from her.

Samer and Jumana arrived together. “Fashionably late, as usual,” the twins said as Jumana went to greet Hajjeh Um Mhammad. I had been watching from a corner when she caught my eye and walked toward me, arms outstretched. A few months before, she had sent me another long letter, apologizing again and promising to do whatever it took to earn my forgiveness. She also assured me that I was wrong about her interest in Bilal. She’d promised to tell me something else, which she could not write in a letter, and I believed in her sincerity. If I’m honest, I was glad we’d had that confrontation in the underground. It allowed me to lay bare my life, right on the tip of my middle finger. But that no longer mattered. I suppose Jandal’s passing had transformed us all.

“Gratitude for your safe arrival, Nahr,” she said.

“And God keep you safe, Jumana,” I said, accepting her embrace.

Behind me, I heard the voice I had been waiting for. “Gratitude for your safe arrival, Nahr,” he said. My heart leapt at hearing Bilal’s voice. I turned to face him, wanting to wrap my arms and legs around him. But all eyes were upon us.

“And God keep you safe, Bilal,” I said, shaking his hand as our eyes swam in each other’s.

Samer had a nervousness and social awkwardness about him. He was typically fidgety, but that day more than usual. His knees bounced up and down continually when he sat and his hands twitched, tapping on surfaces when he stood. “There’s much to tell you,” he whispered. “But when people leave.” The way he struggled to hold back his news was endearingly childlike.

The first thing I had to do upon arrival in Palestine was to pay my respects to Jandal’s family. In fact, it surprised me to see Ghassan and his sister at my welcoming reception, but I supposed life must go on.

“You can ride with us,” Ghassan said. “I’m coming back here anyway, so I can also drive you home.”