The rest of the journey to Azu wasn't as bad as she had expected. She didn't slip or fall, nor did she feel dizzy enough to require someone to hold her for balance.
There had been no rain, her wound hadn't reopened, and she hadn't spoken a word to Malik. He, too, hadn't spoken any words to her, and that's how they rode in silence. They could hear the sounds of nature—the chirping birds in the morning, the crickets at night, and the breeze blowing with each ride they took.
Safiya looked at him. He rode beside her, slow and calm, and one wouldn't know that his thoughts were occupied. She bit her lip, hating the fact that she still had to care in her heart about him, hating that she still had to remember that look on his face when he talked about his father, when he said he had killed him.
