9
The coach rumbled on. An endless stretch of motorways, dual carriageways and border crossings. Amira had exchanged some of her remaining life savings for euros in Turkey. She'd spent a small amount of them on blankets, water, pre-packed sandwiches and fruit for her and Rima.
But Rima had stopped eating. She was restless, grouchy, her skin clammy with sweat. Her cough getting worse. All Amira could do was coax her to drink, keep her warm and nurse her to sleep.
She offered her spare food to the man who'd helped them on-board. His name was Malik. He was a former soldier from Afghanistan. He'd returned to his civilian role of physicist, only to lose his job after the bombing of his lab. He had no home, job or family. But enough money to pay for passage to a fresh start in Europe. He told
