The apartment they were allocated was a masterpiece of clean relaxation. The floors were chilled, sanitary concrete, the chairs sleek and minimal, the windows a smooth, soundproofed barrier to the city's noise. A fruit bowl of immaculate fruit sat on the counter, each apple and orange a wax-like, perfect imitation of itself. To Dawud, after the brutal reality of the camp, it was like a dream. To Sarah, it was like a cage.
She had noticed it initially in the faint, almost imperceptible things. The way the soft, diffuse light never quite went out, leaving the rooms perpetually in a state of twilight. The muffled, persistent whine of the air circulation system that drowned out anything else. The door, which closed from the outside with a gentle, magnetic thud after Amir had left.
"They've l
