He will tell her she’s making it up, and she’ll try to convince him. “No really, it was like a waking dream. I saw you in my mind without those glasses. I knew it was you. I knew I would see you again.”

She can’t see his eyes the night she steals the tape, but she can tell he’s watching her. What’s with the sunglasses? she thinks. Don’t you know it’s nighttime, buddy? As though he has heard her, he gives her a little salute. Is that kosher? Kosher isn’t the word. Is that regulation? She salutes back and regrets it. She shoves her hands beneath her abayah to keep them from stealing or saluting anymore.

The female soldier next to Zee elbows him hard, and it occurs to Hannah that they don’t know she’s American, like them. Hannah’s stomach twists. She thinks they noticed her stealing. Will they report her to the shopkeeper?

She considers returning the tape to its shelf—the right thing, the honest thing. She thinks about saying something to the soldiers in English. “Thanks for your service” or “How long you guys been here?” or “Whaddaya think of this place?”

Her father appears at the door. Three years since their reunion and he is almost as much a stranger to her as the soldiers are. She came here to get to know him better. It seemed like the fastest way.

“Lamees is in the car,” he says. “Yalla.” Probably the word slips past his lips involuntarily, without him thinking about whether she’ll understand. Yalla is one of a few words Hannah has picked up so far. Yalla: hurry up. Ahlan: welcome. Akhuya: my brother. Abuya: my father. Ummi: my mother.

She’s learned the words’ meanings, but she hasn’t spoken them.

As they walk to the car, the humid night air warms her face. Her headscarf presses against her hair and summons her sweat. She hates wearing the scarf, but she doesn’t want to break the rules. The parking lot and streets are crowded with honking cars. Why do men drive angrily here, as though cutting someone else off is the only outlet for frustration?

Hannah’s father keeps his eyes on the Americans, who have finished their negotiating and are piling into a Jeep. He seems especially to be watching Zee, who among the tall Americans is the tallest.

Or maybe it is Hannah who is especially watching Zee. She touches the stolen tape again.

“The king asked them to come, but they walk around like they own the place.”

“They’re my age,” Hannah says. She doesn’t know enough about the politics to understand any of it, or enough about her father to guess the true sentiment behind his words. Does he oppose the Americans coming here, or is he wary?