Strings - Capstone Amal Al Shamsi (1)

Lamya dragged a hand over her face before sitting upright. “The dinner ended late.”
“How did you get lost?”
“What kind of question is that?” she asked. The neighbor’s gate was reflected in the
windshield.
“Sorry,” he said, “I’m just confused.”
She held her head for a while. “I thought you locked the door. I don’t know where my
keys are.”
Hamza became aware that they were on somebody else’s doorstep and reached out to
open the car door before hesitating. “This is not our house though, obviously,” he paused.
“Right?” She did not seem to be talking in her sleep.
“I know,” she said, beginning to sound irritated.
“Then what happened?” he asked, “Did you forget what the house looked like?”
“Hamza, can we just go inside? It’s cold.”
Hamza was sweating. He stepped aside so she could reverse and drive past the gate.
Then, he shut it and waited for her to leave the car before he approached, guiding her up the
steps to their own front door.
“Do you have the keys?”
“The door is open.”
Hamza waited for her to enter then shut it. He turned the key and the beaded keychain
clicked together quietly.
“Why did you lock it?”
He paused. “We always do.”
Lamya walked halfway through the living room before coming back to the door to take
off her shoes.
“Did something happen?”
“I don’t know.”
Hamza watched her walk down the hallway before he looked back outside. He knew
somehow that no one in the neighborhood had been awakened. Or at least shifted in any
significant way behind closed shutters. Then, he went to their room to carefully take the sleeping
Haya into his arms, moving her to the other room. He kept the door open, then moved to their
bedroom.
Lamya put a robe over her clothes and was rubbing her face.
“Everything okay?”
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