She entered the bedroom and walked absently to the window that faced out onto the street. Through the close latticework of the carved wooden musharabiya she could watch people walking past on their personal business, just as though this were some ordinary day. The world moved on for everyone but Alhena; for her, everything had stopped.
She turned from the window and stood facing the carved wooden closet inlaid with small diamond patterns of ivory. She reached in and pulled out one of Umar’s old robes. Fingering the cloth, she closed her eyes and hugged it tightly to her, straining to capture the feel and scent of the man who’d worn it. Thirty-three years of marriage included many things they had said and done, but today all Alhena could think of was those things she hadn’t done for her Um
