AYEL did not slow down, not even when his lungs burned. Xaniyah lay weakly in his arms, still fixed weakly in his shirt as though letting go would make her fall apart completely.

“Hold on,” he whispered to her. “We are almost there.”

Xaniyah didn’t respond. Not a sound, not even a sigh. The moment they broke through the last row of trees, the lights from her uncle’s small cottage came into view. Ayel exhaled shakily, adjusting his grip on her.

“Ayel, please can... can I ask ...