Nick’s neat handwriting flowed across the paper. It read: Dearest Lexie, I know that you are most likely angry with me, and rightfully so. And I rea...ly did not bring you here to hash out the past. But, I do believe you deserve an explanation, so we have dinner plans tonight. I have already made the reservation and you know that I will not take no for an answer. And don’t try to tell me that you already have plans because you don’t cook, and you don’t know anyone here yet. I have kept in contact. It was Ghammal, our guide. Once the door was opened he rushed in, shutting the door behind him, looking scared and breathing hard. His gaze darted from Michael to me, then he inspected the bathroom, looked under the beds, behind the curtains before coming to rest on my bed. His hands trembled as he removed a long heavy package from his sling bag. Ghammal is a small bald middle-aged Egyptian with a thin mustache. “Thank be to Allah, you’re here, Christine.” He pushed the packet into my hands.. More

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