wrap around her, Tazia allowed the tears to fall. Beside her, Stefan remained a quiet, dark statue. When her grandmother drew back, her own eyes were red, her cheeks wet. “So long you have been gone, Tazia.”
“I wasn’t wanted,” Tazia said. “You know I wasn’t wanted.”
“Pfft!” Her grandmother waved her hand, but there was sadness in her eyes for the years lost. “Come, sit with your teta.”
They sat, her grandmother tiptoeing inside to make them cups of sweet milk tea, over Tazia’s protests, and bring out tiny cakes flavored with almonds and figs. “Your young man is very quiet.”
“Yes,” she said, her gaze meeting Stefan’s.
He’d pulled away the scarf from his mouth and nose to bare his face, a face that was so precious to her now.
“So.” Her grandmother narrowed her eyes at him, switching languages at the same instant. “What are your intentions toward my Tazi?”
Coloring, Tazia went to speak, but Stefan beat her to it. “I would marry her if she will have me,” he said, and her heart thundered. “Yet I cannot, not in a way that could get back to the Council.”
“You’re Psy then.” Her grandmother nodded. “If it’s marriage you want, then there are ways.”
“Teta Aya, as soon as we file the paperwork,” Tazia said, all the while wanting to run into Stefan’s arms, “the Council will—”
“Pfft!” Her grandmother waved her hand again. “Paperwork is a creation of the modern world. Do you think they had paperwork four hundred years ago—no, all they had was love and witnesses. That is how my great-grandmother many times removed was married, and no one said she was unmarried.”
Tazia’s nails dug into her palms. “Will you give us your blessing?” At least one of her family would bless her marriage.
“Always.” Her grandmother put down her tea and cupped Tazia’s face in her soft, warm hands. “You are my grandchild, Tazia. Always you will be my grandchild, should you decide to marry a goat.” A twinkling laugh. “Though your young man is no goat. He is handsome and will help you make beautiful babies.”
Said in English, the words had Tazia blushing and refusing to look at Stefan. For an instant, she almost felt like a bride, shy with her would-be husband, and then the moment passed. Still, the cold within her was not so bad anymore, not with her grandmother’s hands warm on her face. “I love you, Teta.” It was a balm on her soul, the knowledge that at least one person in her family still accepted her.
Her grandmother shook her head, her lips suddenly set in a thin line. “Wait.” Heading inside, she was gone for so long that Tazia began to worry. When she did walk out, it was to tug Tazia inside.
“I can’t,” she whispered, heart in her throat.
“Shh.” Her grandmother glanced at Stefan. “You will wait here.”
Stefan inclined his head in a respectful nod, as if understanding that while Teta Aya was old, she was a power.
Quiet as a whisper, they tiptoed through the house until her grandmother brought her to a standstill in front of the open door to her parents’ bedroom. Given that that door was never open at night, Tazia knew what her grandmother had been up to when she first came in. Leaning into the doorway, Tazia looked at the sleeping faces of her parents and cried silent tears.
I’m sorry I wasn’t the daughter you wanted me to be.
Knowing she couldn’t chance staying too long, she was about to leave when her grandmother pointed to something on the bed stand. Frowning, she squinted . . . and felt her whole world tilt sideways. Half a year ago, Alaris had allowed a photographer to come on board, do a photo essay. To her extreme embarrassment, a wrench-carrying Tazia had ended up on the cover of the magazine—in blue coveralls and complete with a streak of grease on her cheek as she stood laughing beside the guts of the facility.
That image sat lovingly framed in pride of place on the bed stand, beside photos of her brother’s family. Shaking, she stepped back and out of the house. “Thank you, Teta.” For giving her a gift of love that could never be stolen from her.
Her grandmother’s hug was fierce. “You make us all proud, though some are too stubborn to show it.” She kissed Tazia’s cheeks. “Your father, he misses his small spark so fiercely. If only you weren’t as stubborn as one another.”
Tazia frowned. “I’ve tried so many times.”
“Letters? Money?” Scowling, her grandmother