chapter 65

  Misbah

  In this, an endless whiteness, I feel my son. I feel Salahudin. He is a heavy presence, weighed down by regret. But then he begins to speak to me. His voice is deeper now, thoughtful and measured. A bit like his father’s—but tempered by an undercurrent of calm. As if there is a tall, strong oak at his core, anchoring him to the earth.

  My son speaks, and my own spirit trills as he unburdens his. A mother carries her child’s innocence in her memory. No matter who they become. We carry our hopes and dreams for them and such things are woven into our souls as God is woven into the fibers of this earth.

  My son is alone for a time.

  And then he is not.

  As he is a steady oak, Noor Riaz is a breeze, warm and powerful and gentle, come to weave her song with his.

  But I cringe away from her, and the whiteness brightens. I did not help her. I did not save her. I could not set it right.

  As soon as the thought forms, I feel her love for me, the love of a daughter. Pure and kind as a desert morning, steady as the beat of a dholak. I feel her forgiveness.

  Oh, my children. My little ones. I have such dreams for you both. The world is right, finally. For here, in this sweet, deep night, I see now that you were always two halves of a whole, two hands interlaced, two voices raised to a melody sung in time.

  Bear witness, then, to the beauty of each other’s lives. Bear witness and burn bright as one.

  The white around me dims, a gentle embrace. My baba, his dark eyes kind, steps out of the blue. He offers a hand.

  “Come now, little butterfly,” he says. “Time to sleep.”

  —30—

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  My deepest appreciation to:

  SLM, for friendship on a lonely playground long ago.

  Mama and Daddy, who clawed out a life from the dust of a barren place, and made it beautiful.

  Kashi, for knowing.

  Mer, for more than I could ever express. Boon, for the music that lights the way.

  Alexandra Machinist, who said, “Write it.”

  Lauren DeStefano, who got me to the finish line.

  At Penguin, Jen Loja, Jen Klonsky, Ruta Rimas, Casey McIntyre, Shanta Newlin, Felicity Vallence, and Carmela Iaria, a dream team I am thankful for every day.

  My squad of brown radness: Samira Ahmed, Aisha Saeed, and Sajidah Ali. My second family: Nicola Yoon, Abigail Wen, Renée Ahdieh, and Adam Silvera. My sisters in faith: Tala Abbasi, Heelah Saleem, Lilly Tahir, Haina Karim, Nyla Ibrahim, Sana Malik, Zuha Warraich, Tahereh Mafi, and Somaiya Daud. My dear friends: Marie Lu, Leigh Bardugo, and Victoria Aveyard.

  YAC, taken too soon.

  The lawyers, doctors, and police officers who patiently answered my questions: Ben Azar, Dr. Monika Goyal, Dr. Scott Gremillion, Dr. Ajit Mahapatra, Cpt. Saul Jaeger, and the MVPD. Michael Shepard and Sonia de Assis, for helping me understand the history and meaning of Ecclesiastes. Daniel José Older for the chat about EMTs and Narcan. Michael Phillips, for answering an email from an old student about a play we read more than twenty years ago. English teachers really are the best.

  The many others who consented to interviews but who did not wish to be named. Thank you.

  Every artist whose music was mentioned in this book, especially the Smashing Pumpkins for “Bullet with Butterfly Wings,” Benjamin Frances Leftwich for “Look Ma!,” Anna Leone for “Once,” U2 and Johnny Cash for “The Wanderer,” the Game for “My Life,” Radiohead for “Street Spirit (Fade Out),” Masuma Anwar for “Tainu Ghul Gayaan,” the Wombats for “Turn,” the Decemberists for “The Beginning Song,” and Florence and the Machine for “Shake It Out.”

  My final thanks, as ever, to Ash-Shaheed, who bears witness to all things.

  If you or anyone you know needs help, please contact the organizations below.

  The National Domestic Violence Hotline

  1-800-799-SAFE (1-800-799-7233)

  thehotline.org

  National Child Abuse Hotline/Childhelp

  1-800-4-A-CHILD (1-800-422-4453)

  childhelp.org

  National Sexual Assault Hotline

  1-800-656-HOPE (1-800-656-4673)

  rainn.org

  National Network for Immigrant and Refugee Rights

  1-510-465-1984

  nnirr.org

  Children’s Defense Fund

  1-202-628-8787

  childrensdefense.org

  Women of Color Network

  1-844-962-6462

  wocninc.org

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Sabaa Tahir is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Ember in the Ashes series, which has been translated into over thirty-five languages. She grew up in California's Mojave Desert at her family's eighteen-room motel. There, she spent her time devouring fantasy novels, raiding her brother's comic book stash, and playing guitar badly. She began writing books while working nights as a newspaper editor. She likes thunderous indie rock, garish socks, and all things nerd. Visit Sabaa online at SabaaTahir.com and follow her on Instagram @SabaaTahir.

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  Sabaa Tahir, All My Rage

 

 

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