Page 11 of Solanum

My stomach sank at the question and I nodded. "Annabelle."

"You look super young… Was she your girlfriend?"

"She was. We were about eighteen," I said. The sadness of old threatened to take hold, but I wouldn't let it. I pushed away from the door to stand beside her, gazing down at the photo of myself in front of the Great Pyramid of Giza.

"Was it a school trip or vacation?"

"A little of both. I was studying Arabic and wanted to experience Egyptian culture," I said, folding my arms over my stomach while looking down at the youthful faces smiling at us.

"You speak Arabic, Spanish, Italian, and what else?"

"Mandarin." I plucked the picture from her and set it carefully back in the tote. "And I'm not too bad at Latin."

"Insane. How'd you learn it all?" she asked, turning to me now.

"I always had an ear for language," I answered, simply. "Spanish and Italian I learned as a kid. The rest later."

"What was Egypt like?" she asked, leaning back against the stack of totes to gaze at me. In her skinny jeans, ankle boots, and navy-blue sweater, the sight of her in my space enticed me like always. I could watch Nora all day and never get bored of her. Something about her presence, no matter what the circumstances, offered succor to my fury. Did she even notice?

"It was…" Unlike before, I couldn't find succinct enough words to answer in a single sentence. "Why?"

"Because…" She shrugged. "I've never traveled outside of the U.S. or Canada, and Egypt would definitely be on my top five places to visit."

"Well, remove it."

"Why?" Her brow furrowed and she gestured to the tote behind her. "It seems beautiful."

"Egypt isn't the problem. The people are. Don't you ever go there, Nora. Especially not alone or without a man accompanying you." My wrath returned at the thought of Nora stepping foot in the place that…

"Whoa." She held her palms up toward me. "Relax. What's going on here?"

"Nothing." I dropped back to sit on the edge of the mattress without linens. "Sorry."

"Since when do you ever say anything about a man accompanying a woman?" Horror struck her face, and she propped her hands on her hips. "I thought you were a feminist?"

"I am. But it's ignorant to believe the rest of the world is going to respect that. We're not immortal or invulnerable to injustice just because we think we should be equal to men. Just because our beliefs make us strong doesn't mean it changes the whole world and how people view women," I told her, leaning back on my hands while watching her. "But you already know that."

"Yeah. I do." She folded her arms over her middle again. "Didn't you become a U.N. Ambassador for women's rights?"

"Yes. After Egypt."

"And worked for Interpol after?"

"Yes."

"Then the FBI?"

"Accurate."

"And you're not even close to forty yet."

"Your point?"

"How can you do all that and fight so hard for women's rights and still say that a woman needs the accompaniment of a man?" she asked, her tone unassuming despite the heavy theme.

"Because experience helps you recognize risk. Like a few years back at that shipyard. Remember?"

"When I froze, and you heroically saved me?"

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