Page 86 of His Secret Gift

Then, I notice the necklace she’s wearing for the first time. It’s gold and dainty.

“That’s very pretty,” I comment, gesturing to it.

She glances down and grabs the charm. “Thank you. It’s actually the Virgin Mary.” When she holds it out, I lean closer.

“Oh, yeah.” although, she never struck me much as a religious person. Not that I could say for sure, of course. We barely know each other.

As if reading my mind, she clarifies. “My mega Irish and Catholic grandparents gave it to me when I was a baby after I was baptized. I just like it for sentimental reasons—I’m not particularly religious or anything.”

“I see. Are they still around or?”

She delicately places the necklace against her chest. “No. They passed years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks.” When she turns to look at me, the sun beaming in from the window lights her from behind, and she looks like an angel. “But it was good that they died when they did. That way, they didn’t need to see their only child, my dad, die slowly.”

That’s right.I forgot that he was gone too. I then suck air through my teeth and lean against the head rest before saying, “You know, it obviously sucks that we both know what it’s like to lose a parent. But it’s also kind of cool that we can relate to each other in that way.”

“True.” She turns away from me and raises her hand up to her face. Then, she sniffles before glancing at me again. I swear, those deep green eyes of her could kill a man. In fact, they even seem to make my heart skip a beat. I pause and feel to make sure that it goes back to normal.

“Everything okay?” She’s leaning forward, and her eyebrows are wrinkled down.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I have a murmur every once in a while.”

“Really?” Her body relaxes again. “You know, my father had that. But it only seemed to happen when he was sick. Huh.” Her lips purse, and she raises her fingers to frame them.

“What?”

“I just wonder if being hungover could trigger it.”

“Oh.” I shrug. “I never thought about that. I can’t recall a time that’s ever happened.”

“Hmm.”

“We’re here!” the driver announces after we pull up to multiple orange, square buildings.

I tip him, and then I get out first.

“Thank you,” Kayla says after I walk over to her side, open the door, and help her out.

“You’re very welcome.”

Next, we head toward the door marked with what I guess is entrance.

“As-salaam ’alykum,”a woman standing behind a desk says. Her name tag reads “Dalia.”

Then, Kayla impresses me when she responds,“Wa ‘alykumu s-salam.”

“How’d you know that?”

In a smug yet adorable way, she answers, “What can I say? I’m very worldly.” But after giggling, she actually admits, “I read it before we came here.”

Then, Dalia smiles at us warmly. “English?”

“Yes, please.”

“No problem. Do you plan on shooting anything?”

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