Muntaha al-Rayyeh
The worst thing about Sari’s visit was the way he treated me, as if he was coming to bring charges against me or had some kind of evidence on me. He acted like someone who knew I had committed the sin of adultery, and who I had committed it with.
Why did I say, “Like someone who knew”? The fact of the matter was that he would not have come to me unless he did know. Maybe in his mind I was a w***e, or some other word.
I sensed in the tone of his voice and the things he said to me a kind of threat, as well as the stirring up of a past I had buried long, long ago.
“What secret are you referring to?” I said, trying to tone down his threat. “What secret are you going to spill? To who? My husband, who’s been dead for more than four years?”
“‘He who uses his head will not g
