I toss and turn in bed. My body is burning, as if I have a fever. I must have stayed in the rain too long. With half-open eyes I look at the wall clock: 3:30 a.m. I’m thirsty. My head is pounding. I wish I had a painkiller… is there any medicine in this house?
I get out of bed. My long hair falls all around my body like a dress. I reach up and tuck some of it behind my ear. Quietly, carefully, I move toward the door. I doubt he’s awake at this hour or that he’ll leave his room.
I slip out of the room on tiptoe and walk down the hallway. A faint light from the kitchen catches my attention. I lean forward and peek from behind the wall into the kitchen space.
Rasha is sitting on one of the small bar stools. A cigarette burns between his fingers. In front of him, a glass and a bottle—whose
