What the River Knows

Grief was like a memory keeper. It showed me moments I’d forgotten, and I was grateful, even as my stomach hollowed out. I never wanted to forget them, no matter how painful it was to remember.

Everyone deserved a living wage. No human ought to be treated as if their work didn’t matter, or their choices, or their dreams.

That was the smile I didn’t trust—I just knew it came with consequences.

The Nile knew everything,had seen the best and worst if Egypt.

No human ought to be treated as if their work didn’t matter, or their choices, or their dreams.

Mamá called it stubbornness, my tutors thought it a flaw. But I named it what it was: persistence.

In Egypt? We’re all looking for something.

Grief was like a memory keeper.

Is this it, Whit?” I whispered. He squeezed me and pressed his lips against mine lightly. “If it is, this where I want to be.

He eyed me warily. “Have I told you how much I live in terror of your ideas?” “That’s rude.

Inez,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, “it goes both ways.

Their death was a truth that was both strange, and yet profoundly ordinary.

I did love my dresses, but did they have to be so delicate?

The world dimmed, narrowed to the barrel of her weapon. ‘I know you’re the type of person who would leave the safety of the camp with a near stranger, even knowing they carried a weapon.’ I backed away a step. ‘What are you playing at? Lower it.’ Isadora rolled her eyes. ‘Now you’re scared. A little too late, Inez.

What game are you playing now, Whit?” I asked, unable to keep the anger from my voice. “No game,” Whit countered. “Only clearing the air. Dance with me.

He knew more about my parents, truths he wouldn’t share. He drank too much and probably flirted with every woman he met. It was hard to feel special if I was just a drop in the bucket. But he had saved my life. Cared to make sure if I was comfortable. Took my side in arguments with my uncle.

Have a care for your reputation,” he said, towering over me. “As if you care about mine,” I snapped. “I’m just a job to you.

You’re terribly decent,” I said. “Despite pretending to be otherwise.” “Just as long as you don’t tell anyone,” he said with a slight smile. Then he ducked out of my room.

We are going to have words,” Mr. Hayes said in a grim voice, preparing to launch himself over the railing. “Several of them.

Traveling alone was an education. I discovered I didn’t like to eat alone, reading on boats made me ill, and I was terrible at cards. But I learned that I had a knack for making friends.

I won’t let him get away with it. I want him to know it was me that ruined him. The person he underestimated, the sister he believed insignificant and not smart enough to understand his work.

Hurt pinched my heart and I tried not to think about how we might have laughed harder if she had behaved more like herself around me.

I’d advise caution against addressing a lady so familiarly. Some unfortunate girl might read into your words.

I don’t have those anymore,” Mr. Hayes said matter-of-factly. “Why on earth would you think so?” A deep flush burned my cheeks. “You’ve just saved my life. We’ve dined together. You kissed me goodbye?

Have you not heard of the bar at Shepheard’s? It’s legendary. The best of humanity gathered round to gossip, deal, manipulate, and inebriate

What I didn’t understand was what he actually did. Was he a treasure hunter? A student of Egyptian history? A lover of sand and blistering days out in the sun?

Old world magic had transferred onto me. It was rare, but possible as long as the object hadn’t been handled too many times by different people.

You don’t have to be kind to me.” “And you,” Whit said sternly