23 Are you staying with your grandmother Hamda?” he inquired further. “Yes,” I answered. “Come see me here every afternoon,” he said, offering a smile of welcome. I excused myself and returned to my grandmother’s house, feeling a sense of belonging growing within me. That night, I lay beside my grandmother on a wide bed. Her voice softened as she began to tell me stories about my grandfather, Ghanim. “He would rest his head on this pillow,” she said, her fingers tracing the outline of the pillow, “and he had a long white beard.”
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