The muezzins have started the call for Zohr prayer when we finally leave the main thoroughfare for the emptier streets of the residential areas. Here, we can smell food cooking and hear voices in the middle of conversations. Our steps quicken. Taraana keeps pace as we all but run around a corner, through an alley, and out onto the other side, before finally coming to a stop in front of a heavy wooden door that leads to the riad we call home in Marrakech.

A riad is a traditional Moroccan house built around an inner courtyard. Ours is a particularly large one. Paheli steps forward and bangs on the door, which opens a minute later. A human woman stands on the other side. Her name is Ahlam; when she sees us, her lined face becomes wreathed in smiles. Ahlam and her family are the custodians of the riad and the administrators of the halfway home we run from it. She welcomes us and ushers us inside without asking any questions.

Ahlam’s grandmother, Bushra, was a Wild One. She didn’t want to forget us when she left the Wild Ones, so we asked Eulalie for a spell that would allow her to remember. It wasn’t a decision we made easily, but we don’t regret that we did. Working with Bushra and with the money we earned by selling Between diamonds, we purchased this riad, which became a home for us and a haven for those who have nowhere else to go. Here, like in other halfway homes we run around the world, we employ therapists, doctors, and other staff who help women seeking aid without asking questions or making judgments.

We watched Bushra as she found love, had children, grew old, and finally crossed the veil. Out of all the halfway houses we have opened, this one is the most precious to us because it belonged to Bushra, who lives on in the legacy this place represents.

We enter the riad and Ahlam closes the door behind us. We follow her through the front door, through a hall, and into the inner courtyard that is an even mix of tiled floors surrounding garden beds. The house has three floors as well as an accessible roof. The second and third floors have verandas with railings that look out onto the inner courtyard.

The courtyard garden is Ahlam’s pride and joy. Lemon and orange trees have been planted strategically in the corners. The floor of the pool in the middle of the courtyard is decorated with Zellige tiles. The air is heavy with the scent of oranges. Benches and rugs laden with cushions are strewn all around the courtyard.

“How long will you be staying, bibi?” Ahlam asks Paheli once we are seated and inquiries about her and her family’s health have been made.

“Not very long,” Paheli replies. “Have there been any problems here?”