Page 64 - A Woman Is No Man

Not with a cold or fever but something worse, only she couldn’t find the
words. Physical symptoms—is that what it meant to be sick? What about
what happened on the inside? What about what was happening to her, Deya,

what had been happening since she was a child?
Deya cleared her throat. What if Isra had been possessed? It would
explain her memories, the letter, why her mother thought about dying.
Suddenly she looked up at Fareeda. “The letter,” she said. “When was it
written?”
Fareeda eyed her nervously. “Why?”
“I need to know when my mother wrote it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Fareeda said, waving her hand. “No good will come
from obsessing over the letter. I just want you to understand that your
mother’s unhappiness had nothing to do with marriage. You have to move
on.”
“Tell me when she wrote the letter,” Deya demanded. “I won’t leave
until you do.”

Fareeda sighed irritably. “Fine.” She took the envelope out of A
Thousand and One Nights and opened the letter.
Deya squinted at the date: 1997. Her stomach sank. That was the year
her parents had died. How could it be a coincidence? What if her mother
hadn’t died in a car accident after all?
She looked up at Fareeda. “Tell me the truth.”
“About what?”

“Did my mother kill herself?”
Fareeda took a step back. “What?”
“Did she kill herself? Is that why you’ve refused to talk about her all
these years?”
“Of course not!” Fareeda said, her eyes chasing a spot on the floor.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”

But Deya could feel her nervousness—she was certain Fareeda was
hiding something. “How do I know you’re not lying? You’ve kept this letter
from me all these years!” Deya fixed her eyes on her grandmother, but
Fareeda wouldn’t look at her.
“Did she?”
Fareeda sighed. “You won’t believe me no matter what I say.”
Deya blinked at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”