Chapter 9Emir

Chapter 9 Emir

The bang of the front door rang through the house, and I stumbled away from the door I’d been pressing my ear against, trying to swallow the intense ball of shame. I shouldn’t have been listening. This was none of my business. I’d told myself I was only looking out for Janie in case she needed help. I’d seen the panic in her eyes as she’d told me about the visitors. She didn’t want to receive these people.

Yet, she’d let them into her house, served them and listened to their probing comments and questions. I couldn’t tell exactly what they’d talked about, but I could detect the universal tone of curiosity. I’d been around enough gossiping neighbors and cousins to recognize the dirt-digging behavior.

I stepped into the dining room. The table had been cleaned, but I immediately spotted something sticking out of the garbage can—a crumpled newspaper.

Instinctively, I glanced out the window. No cars, apart from Janie’s. The visitors had left, but so had Janie. Where had she gone?

With a strange sense of urgency, I dug up the newspaper, smoothed the pages and flipped through it to find what I was looking for. It didn’t take long for my eyes to land on Janie. She looked younger and more polished, posing in a TV studio. The story was about her ex-husband and his new family. Understanding dawned as I scanned the article, focused on sugary words on her ex-husband’s new engagement and their pregnancy.

Where was Janie? Last time I’d seen her, she’d been in her bathrobe. Had she left the house like that?

“Stay,” I told Gru who’d followed me to the door.

Making sure I didn’t lock myself out of the house, I snuck out the door and circled the building. The timing must have been God’s doing, because my eyes caught a glimpse of her coral bathrobe, flashing between the lush greenery covering the hill behind her house. Where was she going? Was there a path?

I glanced at my own leather shoes. Not the best hiking gear, but I had to make sure she was okay. I had to follow her. I ran towards the thicket of ferns and eventually spotted the beginning of a narrow path. Ducking my head to avoid hitting low-hanging branches, I pushed my way in.

The bright daylight transformed into somber tones of dark green, punctuated by the occasional sunbeam. My nostrils filled with the humid smell of earth and its creatures. The sense of wilderness sent a vibration through me. When had I last entered anywhere like this?

I picked up speed until I caught the sight of Janie again. She was taking long strides but rather slow in her heavy rubber boots. I contemplated calling out for her but held back. Was it better to make myself known, or trail her from a distance, to make sure she didn’t throw herself off a cliff or something? How could I stop her, though? If I was too far away, I’d only end up witnessing her death.

My stomach twisted at the thought. But when I was about to call her name, she arrived at a small hut. It peeked through the bushes, its greenish brown color almost blending in. Moss grew up the walls and the door hung off its hinges, daylight seeping in through the cracks.

I held back, watching Janie as she slowed down and sat on the wonky-looking steps, her bathrobe flaring over them like an exotic flower. She produced a notebook I hadn’t noticed and sat there, with a pen in her hand, staring into the distance.

Okay. She hadn’t come here to end her life. I berated myself for even thinking that. Clearly, she needed a moment alone, writing in her diary. And I needed to leave her alone.

But it was quiet now. Too quiet. She hadn’t noticed me yet, but without her footsteps obscuring the sound of mine, she would hear me if I moved. If I wasn’t fast enough, she’d recognize me. My white T-shirt glowed against the dark green of the forest. She’d know I’d followed her.

Part of me wanted to make a mad dash and run back without looking over my shoulder. Deny everything. Had I been any younger, or more flexible, I could have taken a shot at that. But, as Janie had so painfully proven last night, I wasn’t agile like my brother. I was a stiff rod of a man. A pathetic man currently stalking her beautiful hostess. Why was I involving myself in this woman’s life? She obviously had enough to deal with.

She doesn’t need you here.

I told myself this, several times to be sure, but my feet stayed glued to the ground, my eyes trained on her, watching the pen move against the paper, her gaze occasionally lifting, then dipping back on the page.

I picked up a short stick, as quietly as I could, and looked across the clearing. If I flung the stick hard enough to hit the largest tree out there, I could create sufficient distraction. She’d turn to look at the tree, giving me a moment to run off in the opposite direction. It wasn’t a great plan, but I had no other ideas, and time was running out. Any second now, she’d look to her left and spot me, and I’d have to explain why I was standing in the bush, eyeballing her.

I drew in a sharp breath, trained my gaze on the tree trunk, and forced my body into action.