Chapter 11 · Untitled Chapter

The tray came back a second time, and the steward held it at the height of my hands and studied the carpet, and every man in that majlis knew what the tray was for.

A cup given back means the guest is finished. A guest who is finished leaves a seat empty. My uncle had said it once already, before the folder was shut, and shutting the folder had only put the words to sleep for an hour.

"Say it in front of them," he said from the head of the carpet. "Say the seat was never yours to keep. Then it ends here, and the house is not shamed."

The dryness in his voice told me more than his words did. The evening had gone badly for him, and a man whose evening has gone badly will spend anything in the room to get it back.

I set my hands one over the other against the black of the abaya and let the silence get long. There is a silence a woman can stand inside that costs her nothing and costs a room a great deal.