“How long have you been sitting here like this?”

“I don’t know.”

Nelly looked at me, waiting for an answer.

“Five minutos,” I said in our made-up hybrid of English and Spanish, a secret language Nelly and I tried to invent to replace the Yiddish and Moroccan our grandparents spoke between themselves.

“What’s going on, Shira, tell me,” Nelly said to her.

Shira didn’t reply, and I was getting anxious, my mind racing with a thousand and one frightening scenarios.

“Come on, Shira, explain it to us,” I said.

“We need to understand what happened,” Nelly added.

“I’m fine, really,” she replied with a feeble voice.

“Shira, up, come on. This is no good, sitting on the floor like this.” I took two steps toward her.

“Let’s move you to a chair, Shirush?”

Shira shrugged her shoulders with reluctance.

“So maybe you and I should go for a little walk?” Nelly suggested.

“Maybe,” Shira replied.

“Good, that’s a great idea,” I said. “We’ll go out, get some fresh air.”

I bent down to lift her, reaching out both my hands. Shira averted her gaze, and Nelly grabbed my hand. There was something rigid about her touch.

“I forgot to tell you, Nabir wanted you to go help him.”

“What?”

“Nabir said he needed you, that there’s a problem with the sheep’s water tank. Do me a favor, go to him.”

“You mean Nabil?”

“Yes, yes. He said it was urgent. Would you go already?”

“But, la niña,” I protested.

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay with her.”

I froze.

“Well?” she urged me, her tone slightly raised, just enough so I’d get the hint but Shira wouldn’t. I don’t know why I agreed, but I went outside. Nabil was sitting by the sheep shed, wearing a hat with the logo of an insurance agency and smoking a Noblesse. He was a big guy who could barely squeeze himself into the white plastic chair. I walked up to him and sputtered, “What’s this business with the water tank?” He had no idea what I was talking about. I explained that Nelly said he was looking for me. He still didn’t know. I told him it made no sense, because we were just in the middle of something with the girl.

The worst thing was that Nabil figured it out before I did. He understood Nelly had wanted me out of the way.

“Okay, a miscommunication, I guess,” I said in a pitiful attempt to save face. “I’ll head back.”

“Wait,” Nabil said. “Your Nelly is a smart woman. That one knows what she’s doing.” He removed the bag resting on the chair next to him. “Sit, habibi, sit,” he said and took another cigarette out of the green pack.

I hesitated for a moment, but sat down.