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Back Counting Down with You Save as PDF
Chapters (64)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Praise
  4. Booklist
  5. Dedication
  6. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  7. Part 1
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. Part 2
  28. 20
  29. 21
  30. 22
  31. 23
  32. 24
  33. 25
  34. 26
  35. 27
  36. 28
  37. 29
  38. 30
  39. 31
  40. 32
  41. 33
  42. Part 3
  43. 34
  44. 35
  45. 36
  46. 37
  47. 38
  48. 39
  49. 40
  50. 41
  51. 42
  52. 43
  53. 44
  54. 45
  55. 46
  56. 47
  57. 48
  58. 49
  59. 50
  60. 51
  61. 52
  62. 53
  63. 54
  64. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

“Okay.” The word comes out painstakingly from my dad’s lips. “You can study English.”

Okay.

Okay.

Okayokayokay.

My mouth falls open and no words come out. Dadu steps in for me. “And you will cast no judgment on her for this decision. If I hear or see you doing something of that manner, you’re going to wish it was me who died instead of your Abbu. Not that he would approve of any of this, either.”

“Ammu,” Baba says, aghast. “Don’t talk like that.”

“I’m being serious,” she says, sitting down across from me and sipping her chai. “It’s settled then. In the fall, Myra will apply to Columbia to study English and you will support her wholeheartedly.”

My heart is racing. Is this real? Can this be real? Did we do it? Did I do it?

All the heaviness weighing on my heart is slowly lifting like a strange fog. The world looks clearer, sharper.

Both my parents seem resigned. “Okay.”

As one, they rise and leave the room, shutting the door behind them. I blink after them in disbelief. “Am I dreaming?”

“No, Myra,” Dadu says, reaching over to squeeze my hand. I turn my attention back to her. My eyes feel like they’re about to bulge out of my head. “This is real life. You did it and I’m so proud of you for being brave. Please tell me if there are any issues. I’ll handle them, okay? I won’t let this family fall apart. You will have your happiness.”

“Dadu,” I say, my voice choked. I don’t bother to stop the tears this time. “Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

I lunge across the table and wrap my arms around her bony shoulders, squeezing as tightly as I can.

“Oh, Myra,” she says softly, hugging me back. “Don’t thank me. You did this. I simply helped.”

When I pull back, tears still streaming down my face, she gestures to my eyes with a small smile on her face. “The light is returning. Mashallah, Myra. Your Dada would be so proud, too. Maybe there’s hope for our family, after all.”

I exhale in such painful relief, it hurts. “I think you’re right, Dadu.”

53

T-PLUS 14 DAYS

My house is silent.

There’s an awkwardness in the air. I don’t think either of my parents are mad at me. They’re definitely irritated, but it seems directed more toward my grandma than me.

Samir comes to my room and gives me a quick hug, mumbling how happy he is for me. “I never did that,” he says a second later and walks out, which I should have expected.

Yet I can’t stop smiling afterward.