Page 31 of A Discovery: Love and Other Things

“No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“You need to be bent over and have something thick rammed up that ass instead of the stick that’s been wedged inside it for forever.” She smacked my backside playfully.

I grabbed my ass and looked around, mortified that she had just done that on the streets of Cairo. “Angela!”

“What?” She giggled at my horror. “You need some softening up.”

She wasn’t exactly wrong. I was on edge. How could I not be with the unfinished business of what I endured at the hands ofourmentor? Only a moment longer and who knew what James and I would have done. We could have been caught and arrested for indecency. I would surely have been let go from the internship program, and James would have been fired. There was too much at stake for something that was too unclear between us.

What were we?Even though I had hated him for pushing me away at his penthouse, I couldn’t deny our attraction. And it had relieved me to find out that he felt it too. He had said that I was on his mind all the time, but even so, I had no clue where I stood with him. The only way to find out was by having a serious conversation, andtalkingandJames Campbellnever went together.

I couldn’t risk telling Angela for fear of snooping ears. What if someone overheard us and reported it to the ministry? She clearly had no volume control today, judging from all the eyes that were on us, so what made me think she could keep quiet about something this big?

“How much longer until we get there?” she groaned.

I pulled out the scrap piece of paper from my bag and examined the address scrawled on it. “I think it’s the next street over.”

We turned the corner and continued our journey.

“What if the address is wrong?” she asked.

It was a risk I was willing to take. I would evaluate any lead I came across to find my uncle.

Imagine my surprise when I’d received a response to one of my many forum posts asking about my uncle’s whereabouts. User “mmmefoodie465” had replied saying that their parents had been friends with a Yusuf Taha from Cairo. I had sent a private message to mmmefoodie465 asking to confirm other relatives of Yusuf Taha, and they had mentioned my father’s name. My heart had galloped when they’d given me the last known address of Yusuf Taha and his wife.

I hadn’t hesitated to book the next available flight out to Cairo. Driving would have taken us at least eight hours, not counting bathroom and food breaks, so flying had seemed more practical.

“This is it.” I stopped in front of a run-down building that looked more like a haunted dwelling than a home.

“Are you sure someone lives here?” Angela scrunched her nose again, this time at the dingey brown stains on the once-white paint. The windows of the two-story house had a yellow tinge, and the iron gate in front of the door had rusted over time.

The hope that had ignited within me after receiving the message with information was slowly dimming the longer we stood in front of the house.

I pulled at the gate, and it swung open with a loud screech. The door behind it was ajar as well.

“I don’t think we should go in there. It doesn’t look safe.”

But I ignored Angela’s concern. Perhaps my uncle and his wife lived a modest—very modest—life, and I wasn’t going to judge them by the appearance of their home.

I pushed the door in and stepped inside.

Dust swirled around us, and the dank smell of mold and ammonia made me cover my nose with my bicep.

Angela coughed into her sleeve from the rank scents that encircled us.

Meowww.

Cats. More cats than I could count on one hand sauntered up to us. I could place the acerbic scent now.Cat piss.

“I don’t think anyone lives here,” Angela wheezed.

My eyes scanned the dark area, looking for evidence of more than just feline life. No furniture remained in the house. The ceiling looked to be about one thunderstorm away from caving in, based on the missing patches I could see.

The house was dark and empty, much like how I felt inside. Perhaps James was right. Maybe my uncle was no longer alive. All I had left were the ghosts of my family to haunt me for the rest of my life.

My eyes fogged up with tears, more from emotion than the scent that engulfed me.

I had only been a child when my father passed away and couldn’t even remember the day he died. My whole life, I had longed for the presence of a man I didn’t really even know. But in this moment, I felt like I was mourning him for the first time. Like he had just died, and the wounds of his loss were fresh in my heart.

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