Ezra
"Eizra, tifli," she smiled as she reached out completely forgetting she could not touch me then pulled her hand back with a small giggle. (Arabic: Ezra, my baby.)
"Mama hal ant bikhayrin? Madha yahduth huna?" my eyes enlarged as my voice wavered. My blood was pulsing through my body at an alarming rate that I almost felt light headed. (Mama, are you okay? What's going on?)
She waved her hands trying to calm me down, "la bas habi. 'ana bi'aman, lakiniy 'uriduk 'an tastamie 'iilaa haris almulk watadhhab maeahu." (It's okay my love. I'm safe, but I need you to listen to the King's guard and go with him.)
"'akhbirni 'iidha kanuu yahtajizunak karhinatan. Sa'ajid tariqatan li'iinqadhik ya 'umi," I stressed as I tried to look for any signal that she was held captive and they were forcing her to pretend like she was fine. (If they are holding you hostage, tell me. I'll find a way to you Mama.)
