“Do one last thing for me.” Huda’s voice rose above the din of hagglers and hawkers’ bells. “Tell Hanan that I will pray for God to grant her happiness.”

A lump formed in Rania’s throat. She tried to reply, but like swimmers caught in a riptide, the two women were swept away. Rania drifted past stalls selling dried dates, walnuts, and pistachios. Vendors called for her to stop and taste a fig or a lick of wildflower honey. The thought of food made Rania sick, but the smoke of the kerosene lantern had left her throat raw. She ducked into a teashop and ordered a glass of lime tea.

“Numi basra?” The old man behind the counter rinsed a glass and set it on a saucer. “How many sugars?”

Rania held up three fingers. It would need to be very sweet to wash the bitterness from her mouth. She perched on a stool at the entrance to the shack. When the old man delivered her istikan, she didn’t wait for the steaming tea to cool. Rania’s scalded tongue gave her an excuse for the tears in her eyes.

A barefoot boy squeezed through the crowd. His hair was matted, but unlike the child who led them to Khan Murjan, he had brown eyes, not green. Rania wished their little guide would pass by again. Perhaps she’d take him to buy a leg of roast chicken, then he’d have meat to go with the bread and yogurt he’d promised Huda he’d buy instead of sweets. She sipped the tea and searched the crowd for those emerald eyes. Kareem strolled by.

Rania slapped down a few dinar and hurried from the tea stall. She caught up with Kareem out on the street, not far from where she’d parked her car. He glanced up and down the sidewalk.

“We shouldn’t be seen together.”

“Why not?” said Rania. “We have plenty in common. Like Huda said, my ancestors have a boulevard named after them, and yours have a statue on a square.”

“Had a statue.” Kareem frowned. “It’s been replaced.”

“Come.” Rania ushered him around the next corner. “One of my relatives keeps a pharmacy here, although I don’t think he’s had a customer since 1995.”

The power was out when they arrived at the pharmacy. Ropy cobwebs hung in the windows. Rania wondered if her cousin had finally given up on his business, but the front door was unlocked, so she slipped inside. She found him out back in his office, snoring in a rocking chair. He could rest easy, knowing if thieves visited his pharmacy they’d find nothing of value. His shelves were bare.

Rania left him sleeping, returned to the front room, and locked the door.

“Where is your little friend, Huda?” Kareem brushed a cobweb from his sleeve. “Or should I call her your blackmailer? It’s quite the Greek tragedy you two have going on.”