“There she is! Ask her! Ask her!" Uncle bellowed storming out of the kitchen towards me.
Uncle's face was blood red, full of rage and he was spitting fire. Something serious must have happened and by the looks of it, it was my fault.
“Hannah, where have you been?" Dad's voice was strung tight.
“At school! Where else would I be?" My lie was delivered with the confidence of a seasoned con artist.
“Where is Fatima?" Uncle shouted in my face. I stepped back at the stench of digested tea hit my face.
“How do I know where she is?"
“Because you planned this! You did!" Uncle was raging and swearing as he stomped around circling me.
His shark-like maneuvers did nothing to dampen my mood. I was still high from my encounter with Vazar. The imprint of his lips on my forehead was like a glowi
