Nazirah hops the short gate she’s entered countless times before. She skips up the front steps. Holding her breath, she raps on the door. Nazirah stuffs her hands into her pockets. “This is stupid,” she mutters. “They’re probably all sleeping.”
But she hopes they aren’t. And, even though no one comes to the door, Nazirah stays. And she waits.
A mangy dog howls in the distance, probably part of the mutt packs that roam the boardwalk at night, scavenging fish bones and carcasses clean off the shore. Nazirah glances anxiously over her shoulder. She shouldn’t have come; Aldrik was right. But she needs to see them, these people from her past.
A light flickers on. The door opens, revealing Cato’s father. Cameron is dressed in a worn blue robe and striped pajamas. Nazirah looks into his face, wanting to smile or cry or both. Cameron looks older than Nazirah remembers, gaunter. His face has more lines and his hair is grayer. But his kind brown eyes, Cato’s eyes, are exactly the same.
Any fears Nazirah had melt away as soon as their eyes meet. Cameron looks shocked, not entirely processing that Nazirah is standing before him. He reaches for Nazirah through the doorway and embraces her tightly. Nazirah clings to Cameron’s neck. She hasn’t felt this safe since the last time she was in the arms of her father.
“Nazirah!” he cries, into her hair, “We’ve missed you so much! We were so hoping you would come.”
“I missed you too, Mr. Caal,” she mumbles, hugging him tighter.
Cameron reigns in his emotions, darting his eyes around the deserted street. “Come inside,” he says, ushering Nazirah into their small cottage. “Watch your step.”
Nazirah is over the moon, walking on air. Her argument with Adamek and poor performance at the meeting are removed from her mind. Walking inside feels like getting caught in a sun shower, feels like coming home.
Nazirah enters their sitting room and runs a hand slowly over the worn green couch. The memories come flooding back like ocean waves crashing onto shore. How many times have she and Cato sat exactly here, mimicking Medi news anchors? How many times has she curled up on this floor, telling Oseni fables to Cato’s baby sister? How many times has she eaten dinner in that kitchen, knowing she was saving her parents an extra mouth to feed?
Cato’s mother Juliya rushes downstairs, also in her bathrobe and fuzzy slippers. Nazirah can tell from Juliya’s unusually tight ringlets that she’s removed her hair rollers in a hurry. It reminds Nazirah of something Riva would have done. Riva used empty cans, though, because the Nations could never afford anything else. Juliya squashes Nazirah against her chest, hugging her tightly. “Oh Nazirah!” she cries, “let me look at you!” She sniffles and grabs Nazirah’s shoulders. Nazirah awkwardly pulls off Cato’s cap, stuffing it into her back pocket. “You’ve always been so beautiful,” Juliya says, and Nazirah doesn’t quite believe her. “But you’ve grown up so much.” That, Nazirah believes.
“Not any taller though.”
Cander haughtily enters the room. Whereas Cato shares Cameron’s medium build, Cander is surprisingly tall for an Eridian. Nazirah wants to tell him off, but holds her tongue in front of his parents. Luckily, Juliya does it for her. “Cander, quiet,” she hisses. “Honestly, you act younger than Caria.”
Nazirah smirks at him cheekily before Juliya turns back to her. Juliya’s hands shake slightly.
“Nazirah, please,” she says, “Let me make you something to eat. You’re all skin and bones. Don’t the rebels feed you?”
“They do, but the food is awful,” Nazirah replies. “It’s nothing like how you cook.”
Juliya kisses Nazirah on the cheek and hurries into the kitchen. Nazirah’s eyes dart between Cander and Cameron. The two of them seem to be having a silent argument, which Cameron appears to win for the time being. He gestures for Nazirah to take a seat on the couch, which she does. Cameron settles beside her, while Cander sits in a nearby armchair.
Cameron pats her knee kindly. “Nazirah, there’s been so much left unsaid between us. We wanted to see you again, after everything that happened, but the rebels whisked you away so quickly.”
“I remember,” she mumbles, looking at her hands. “At the funeral.”
“They wouldn’t let us approach you,” Cameron says, shaking his head. “It devastated us, not being able to say goodbye.”
“It’s okay,” she says feebly. “I wasn’t really in a great state that day.”
Cameron gently takes her hands in his, which are calloused and weathered from the ocean. “Not a day goes by where I don’t think of them,” he says earnestly. “Not a day passes when I forget their kindness, their joy, their ceaseless optimism. Not a day do I lose sight of their love, the enthusiasm your mother brought to her students, the dedication your father had for his work. I miss them all the time, Nazirah, as if they were my own flesh and blood. All of Rafu misses them, and you.”
“Thank you,” she says. It’s all she can get out without splitting into pieces.
“Nazirah,” Cander interrupts and Cameron looks at him sharply. “Tell us what’s happening with the rebellion. We hear whispers here and there, especially on the boardwalk, but we don’t know much.”
“I wish I could tell you,” she sighs. “But I probably know less than you do. Niko barely tells me anything, unless he wants something from me.” Nazirah traces a small circle in the floor with her shoe. “All he asked me to do was gain intermix and territory support. But as you saw from this afternoon, I’m not particularly good at it.”
Cander snorts. “You can say that again.”
“Thanks,” she snaps.
“To be perfectly honest,” Cander scoffs, “you don’t need to do much. You said a total of about ten words today, two of them your own name, and Eridians are already singing your praises around town.”
“How is that even possible?” she asks, stunned. “I completely messed up at the end! Thanks for that, by the way.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Cander says. “All of what, fifty people, were there to see it happen? And they don’t even know what they saw. What’s important is how it all spreads across Eridies by word of mouth. And you should hear how your mentor – or whatever – Aldrik, is twisting your silence around.”
Nazirah is worried now. “What’s he saying?”
“You really want to know?” Cander asks mischievously.
“Yes!”
“He’s telling everyone you and Adamek Morgen are secret lovers. And that your silence was you refusing to publicly admit it. The Eridians are eating it up like candy.”
“He said what?!” she screeches. “But that’s ridiculous! That excuse doesn’t even make sense! Who would believe that?”
Cander shrugs. “People believe what they want to believe,” he says. “Everyone loves a fantasy, Nazirah, especially when reality is so bleak.”
“No,” she argues belligerently. “I refuse to accept that.”
“Why not?” asks Cander. “It sets the stage perfectly. The intermix orphan falls in love with the reformed Medi who ruined her life. It showcases the both of you in the best possible light. And it makes the rebellion seem like a dreamland … allowing people to hope for things they never imagined could exist.”
“Because –”
“Oh right,” he interrupts snidely, “because you don’t want to fuck over my little brother any more than you already have.”
Nazirah sucks in her breath, repressing the urge to slam his face against the coffee table. “That was so uncalled for,” she says.
“But entirely true!”
“Cander, enough!” shouts Cameron.
“No! It’s not enough! Cato should be home with us right now, not off gallivanting, risking his life with these foolish rebels!”
“Foolish rebels?” Nazirah exclaims. “That’s all you think we are?”
“Did I stutter?”
“Foolish for what, exactly?” she asks, “For wanting the same rights as everyone else? For standing up to the Medis, in Eridian defense, for people too afraid to defend themselves?”
“Don’t put words in my mouth!” he barks. “So much has been going on here lately, Nazirah. So much you don’t know.”