“I’ll understand if you don’t want to see me again.” Though he wouldn’t understand. He would truly go blind with sadness this time. After seeing her, nothing in life will be enough without her. Not his wife and sons. Not the paper. He’s sure of that. He puts the car in gear, backs up. “I hope you’ll let me stay in touch.”

“The store manager’s gonna dock my pay,” she says.

He lets her out at a convenience store that sits alone on an island of concrete. He has a hundred-dollar bill in his wallet, and he tries to hand it to her. She slams the door behind her without saying goodbye or taking the money. As she walks from the car, she pulls a polo shirt out of her backpack and pulls it over her T-shirt, shifting the bag from one arm to the other so she doesn’t have to set it down or stop.

She is everything he sees until the sliding doors close behind her. His vision expands, and he sees the haze has lifted and the sky transformed into a bright ocean blue that reminds him of home. There’s a rainbow of spilled motor oil on the asphalt ahead of him. He pulls ahead, repeating God’s name over and over: Allahallahallahallah.

He’s left without her again.

WHERE DO WE GO

Muneer chooses prayer as his coping mechanism. He unrolls one of the prayer rugs Jameel never uses and spreads it in a corner of the basement. Lulu’s on the sofa. She seems to migrate from space to space in the house, even though she has her own bedroom. Her headphones are clamped on, her eyes closed.

The air smells like dryer lint.

After he prays, he sits for a while, hands before his face but no request for God on his lips.

Footsteps come down the stairs.

“Oh,” Diane says. She’s carrying a basket of dirty laundry. When she discerns he’s done with his prayer, she apologizes. “I didn’t know you were praying down here.”

“I saw her again.”

Diane’s eyes flit to Lulu. “That’s wonderful.”

“I don’t think she wants to see me.”

“That can’t be true.”

“It’s been too long.”

“We’ll help you figure this out. We’ll find you a lawyer.”

She puts the basket down and says, “Lulu.”

Lulu moves her head to the music, seemingly unaware of the adults. Her mom taps her legs. The girl brings her knees up so the mother can sit.

Muneer stands and begins to roll up the prayer rug. Diane’s hands are flat on her thighs, as though she were kneeling in Muslim prayer, paying her respects to Abraham. But she’s Christian. He doesn’t know how or if she prays.