Chapters (40)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Recipes
- Starry Fuzzy Fizz
- Acknowledgments
- Discover More
- Author’s Note
- About the Author
- Also by Farah Heron
- Praise for Farah Heron
“I know it’s a weird thing to say, but I’m glad you left the party so you could be there for Dad. Thanks,” Kamila said.
“Thanking me is not necessary. You would have done the same for my family.” Jana’s voice was clipped. It seemed she was back to being annoyed and irritated with Kamila.
Ah well. Perhaps it was better to stay on familiar ground. “Well, I know you’re quite busy with that company you’re starting, and all those personal talks with Rohan—”
“How do you know I spoke to Rohan?”
“Jana, you told us. When you left the game in a huff, you said you left your purse in his condo. Plus, he mentioned it.”
“He told you why I went to see him? I can’t believe this. I’ll never understand how you manage to get everyone wrapped around your—”
“No, he didn’t tell me what you talked about. Rohan wouldn’t betray your confidence. All he said was that you two talked.”
Jana pulled up in front of Kamila’s door. “Look, I’m going to say one thing—don’t believe everything that man says.”
“Rohan wouldn’t lie to me.” Scold her, yell at her, call her selfish, yes. But not lie.
“Not Rohan. Anil. He can’t be trusted. Let’s say he’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
“Sounds like he knows the real reason you left Tajikistan and you’re afraid of it becoming known.”
Jana looked at Kamila, blinking, then turned and looked straight in front of her. “Goodbye, Kamila. Let me know if your father needs anything from me.”
Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Kamila’s limbs felt heavy as she climbed the stairs to her front door. She finally checked the time. Past two a.m. The moon was bright in the sky—although only a sliver of a crescent illuminating the mist surrounding it. It seemed fitting somehow—a new moon.
In her religion, new-moon nights were considered especially holy. She wasn’t really much of a praying person, or really religious at all, but after a night like tonight, she needed all the help the universe was willing to give her. So, she said a prayer that Dad would be a little better tomorrow. And a little better the day after that. She said a second prayer, that she would be strong enough to handle whatever came after that.