A Wind of Change by Bella Forrest Read Free Book Online

Yusuf said, grinning. He grabbed my grandfather’s hand and pulled him in for a hug. Then he turned to the rest of us. “And who are these angels?”
    “Meet Lalia, Dafne, and River,” my grandfather said, gesturing to each of us.
    We shook hands with him, then Hassan, who smiled more broadly as he met my eye.
    “A pleasure to meet you,” he said, his Middle Eastern accent thick.
    “And you too,” I said politely.
    I wasn’t sure whether it was just my imagination, but my grandfather and Yusuf seemed to deliberately engineer the seating so that I was next to Hassan.
    After we’d scanned the menus and chosen what we wanted, the waitress came to take orders. For the first half of the meal, we listened to my grandfather and Yusuf speaking enthusiastically about the dig—how long they had been planning for it and trying to get permission, how they had finally succeeded and how it had been going so far. Apparently they had already discovered some artifacts of interest.
    It was only after about forty-five minutes that Hassan spoke to me again.
    “My father tells me you are from New York?” he asked, glancing at me curiously.
    I swallowed my mouthful of salad. “Yes,” I said. “Manhattan.”
    “I have visited there once with my parents. I found it a nice place.”
    “Yes, parts of it are nice,” I replied.
    “How long are you staying here in Cairo?” he asked.
    “Just a week this time.”
    “Oh, I see…” He looked across the table at my two sisters. “You are not here with your parents?”
    “No.” The thought of my father in a Texas jail and my mother stuck in our apartment with my autistic brother suddenly made the food in my mouth tasteless. I worried about how my mother was even going to sort out basic things like groceries.
    “Do you live in Cairo full-time?” I asked Hassan, eager to change the subject.
    “Yes.”
    “Where are you from originally?”
    “Born and raised in Cairo,” he replied proudly. “Were you born in the United States?”
    “Yes. Though my mother was born in Egypt.”
    Our conversation trailed off and we went back to listening to my grandfather and Yusuf’s discussion.
    Lalia and Dafne were busy eating. They’d worked up a good appetite from all the swimming they’d done earlier. I caught myself wondering whether Lalia would even have room for any dessert, then reminded myself that she always had room for dessert.
    Once we’d finished, the waitress took away our dinner plates and we ordered dessert. Lalia requested the obvious, while the rest of us opted for ice cream. Hassan chose the same flavor as me—mango.
    Once we’d finished, Yusuf insisted on paying the check. Then we all retreated to the sitting area outside on the veranda and admired the view of the desert. Lalia and Dafne both looked drowsy by now as they slumped back in a sofa. I stretched out my legs next to them, yawning and looking up at the starry night sky and then straight ahead at the endless mass of dunes. A cool breeze wafted over us.
    As my grandfather and Yusuf immersed themselves in conversation once again, Hassan gestured with his head toward the dunes. “Shall we take a short walk?” he asked .
    I felt so full, I wasn’t really in the mood for a walk, but the desert did look beautiful in the moonlight.
    “Grandpa,” I said, standing up and interrupting his conversation. “Hassan and I are going to go for a short walk. We won’t go far.”
    “Okay,” he said. “But be careful.”
    Neither Lalia nor Dafne made any move to come with us. They were too full. So Hassan and I left the sitting area together and descended the veranda steps. Grains of sand filled my shoes as soon as we reached the bottom. We walked slowly forward. Now that we were away from the shelter of the veranda, the breeze was stronger.
    “Watch out for snakes,” Hassan said suddenly.
    I jolted back. “Snakes?”
    “Yes. Cobras. They tend to come out at night.” He reached for my hand and pulled me closer to