I peeked into the bedroom and saw that my mother had fallen asleep curled around Faheem. Not wanting to wake them, I walked softly toward the kitchen. I stopped when I heard the familiar voices of the kitchen staff speaking in panicked whispers.

“You can’t be serious! Why would they do this?”

“I just saw it with my own eyes. Those tanks outside have just turned their guns on the palace. We are under siege!”

I walked into the kitchen.

“Why would the tanks point their guns at us?” I asked. “And what do you mean we’re under siege?”

The two men had their hands on the counter, their faces grim. They were unfazed that I’d overheard their conversation.

“Find your mother, little girl,” one man said, barely looking at me. “Stay with her. This is not a time for play.”

Startled by the edge in his voice, I left without asking for food. I wanted to report to my mother what I had just learned and gauge her reaction. I wanted even more to find my father. He would be able to fix whatever it was that had gone so terribly wrong. Though I couldn’t name it, I had a sense that something ominous was happening.

I shook my mother’s shoulder. Her eyes were still heavy with sleep, since she hadn’t gotten much the night before. But once I had unloaded the news on her, she blinked away the haze. She made me repeat what I’d said and promise that I had not misheard. She composed herself and reassured me, but I’d already seen the flash of panic on her face.

“Everything will be fine. I must find your father,” she said, blinking rapidly.

As if summoned, Boba appeared in the doorway. He was unshaven and sullen, his sleeves rolled up.

“Sulaiman—” my mother said.

My father squeezed my shoulder and walked across the room, sinking into the chair as if he were carrying his weight in stones.

“The winds have changed direction,” he said.

“Speak clearly,” my mother said, her voice trembling.

I sat by Faheem, whose stomach seemed to have settled just as the rest of the palace was beginning to retch. I had my arms around him and my chin on his head when I heard what sounded like coins rattling in a giant tin can.

“Get down!” my mother shrieked. In one swift move, she and my father grabbed us, covering our bodies with their own. We crouched on the floor, the four of us, paralyzed. Even Faheem seemed too stunned to cry. After a few moments, the gunfire ceased and we peeled away from one another. The room was untouched. We were unharmed, though I didn’t feel intact.

My father stood and went into the hallway.

“I see one of the guards,” he said, looking back at my mother. “Let me find out what’s happening.”

“But, Sulaiman!”