Page 177 - A Woman Is No Man

If Sarah had asked this question four years before or even one year
before, back when Isra had abandoned her books, she would’ve said yes.
But now, reading with the same dedication with which she had once

performed her five daily prayers, Isra couldn’t imagine it.
“I hope that never happens,” she said. “I don’t know what I’d do.”
Sarah looked at her curiously.
“What?” Isra asked.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.”
“What do you mean?”
“You just seem different.”

“Different how?”
“I don’t know. I can’t explain it.”
Isra smiled at her. “I’m just happy, that’s all.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Thanks to you.”
“Me?”

Isra nodded. “Ever since I started reading again, I feel like I’m in a
trance, or maybe like I’ve come out of one. Something has come over me—
I don’t know how to describe it—it might sound dramatic, but I feel hopeful
for the first time in years. I don’t know why exactly, but I have you to thank
for it.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” Sarah said, blushing. “It’s nothing.”
Isra met her eyes. “It’s not nothing, and it’s not just the books. It’s your

friendship, too. You’ve given me something to look forward to for the first
time in years.”
“I hope you always feel happy,” Sarah whispered.
Isra smiled. “Me too.”

In her bedroom closet, Isra was careful to keep her books hidden beneath a
pile of clothes. She didn’t know how Adam would react if she told him she
had been reading while he was at work. She assumed he would hit her, or

worse, prevent Sarah from bringing her books. After all, if Mama had
forbidden Isra from reading Middle Eastern books for fear of any
nontraditional influence, she could only imagine what Adam would do if he
knew she was reading Western novels. But to her relief, he was barely
home.