The rest of the day was a blur. Dirva was in and out of the apartment sporadically as he and his sister tied up loose ends and made arrangements. Looking back, I think he might have been planning to return for some time. Perhaps planning is too strong a word—he may have suspected he’d have to go back. It only took him a day and a half to tie up his loose ends in Rabatha. He already had everything in place, ready to go in case he got called back. He was, after all, nothing if not practical. For my part, I stayed out of sight and tucked out of the way and agonized over the decision of whether or not to go. It was a huge decision to make, a heavy one, which changed the course of things. I felt so torn: I wanted to be there for him in a time of need, but I wasn’t sure if he wanted me there. I wanted to know more about him, where he came from, but it struck me as invasive to find it all out. I wanted to travel, to see the City, to see more exotic and fascinating people like his sister, but I was afraid of the effect they might have on me. After all, in less than an hour his sister had turned me to drugs. I knew I was impressionable. My mother said it had to do with shaping, and perhaps that’s true. I had the feeling that if I went with him, the City would leave indelible marks on me, and I wasn’t sure I would still fit in the Empire if I let it mark me. I knew by then I was not like Dirva. He had a will of iron. He was a man that changed the world around him instead of it changing him. I was, and still am, the opposite.

More than anything, I kept thinking I needed more time to think. I wanted to talk it through with someone, but the only people to talk it through with were Dirva and his sister. Everyone else I knew in Rabatha knew him, too, and to explain my quandary meant sharing personal information about him I knew he wouldn’t want shared. I mulled my choices over well into the night. I lay awake on my cot going over it and over it. I didn’t sleep, and I was still thinking about it when Dirva woke at dawn. He raised his eyebrows at me. The unvoiced question demanded an answer, and I couldn’t give him one. I just stared at him, terrified and paralyzed. Helpless. “I can’t tell you what to do, Ariah.”

“Yes, you can.”