Saad suddenly coughed—moderate at first, then violently.  He covered his mouth with a cloth, but not in time to keep a small drop of blood from hitting and staining the delicate paper.

He leaned back and closed his eyes, suffering through another brief but violent episode before managing to calm his breathing.

Pulling the cloth away, he now saw dozens of red blobs.

It was accelerating.  Quickly growing worse.  But thankfully, no one knew just how bad he really was.

Saad folded the soiled cloth and tucked it into a breast pocket, retrieving a clean replacement from another before leaning forward to resume reading.

It had taken well over a decade to translate the words, to begin understanding and receiving the knowledge written by dozens of hands over the course of many years.  But only by a few different people.  Of that, Saad was certain.

Just a handful of people… living over and over again.

55

55

Mona Baraka raced across town, headed for the hospital, weaving in and out of Cairo’s evening traffic.

She wanted to be there when Omar woke up, having quickly retrieved some things from her apartment, including a change of clothing.

She had to know he was going to be okay.

Cars in front of her slowed, prompting her to swerve into another lane and look for an open side street, an alternative to the approaching bottleneck leading into the city’s most congested arteries.

She turned right onto what resembled an alley more than a street and accelerated past tightly packed parking spots of downtown apartment buildings.  She traveled several short blocks before turning back out onto another avenue.

By the time she reached Coptic Hospital, the sky was completely dark, forcing her to slow her car through the narrow two-lane entrance and ease forward in search of a place to park.

Once out of the car, she walked briskly in the warm evening darkness, following a sidewalk out of a small parking lot and toward the hospital’s main entrance.

She needed Omar to be okay.

She stopped at a rounded corner while another car passed, entering the grounds from the same direction and passing her before turning right toward the east wing of the towering hospital.

As the vehicle turned, its headlights illuminated a large section of manicured lawn along with several trees as the light washed over them, including a row of cars parked on the opposite side of the street—the first being a white Land Rover.

Something caught Mona’s attention.  A significant dent in the Rover’s front fender, visible when the passing car’s headlights briefly swept over it.  Even more noteworthy were what looked to be two silhouettes sitting in the Rover’s front seats.

Her phone rang from inside her purse.

“Hello?”

“Are you there yet?”

It was Mawra.  “I just parked.”

“Good.  I had to leave and come back to the office.  Let me know as soon as he’s awake.”