married off his daughter

cooled by the creek.

“Look at this,” a voice hissed. It was a voice like broken glass. “The beggar’s queen out for a stroll.”

Zainab froze. “Aminah?”

Her sister stepped into her personal space, the scent of expensive rosewater cloying and suffocating. “You look pathetic, Zainab. Truly. To think you’ve traded a mansion for a mud hut and a man who smells continue reading …