I slept the night away mostly sitting upright; my body was so tired that once it cooled down and I stopped moving, my consciousness all but collapsed in fatigue. I didn't even dream.
After jumping awake to the sun rising over the horizon, I looked at my watch and noticed it read one o'clock, so, estimating the time to be about six in the morning, I turned the dial to set it. After that, I went over to shake the twins awake.
"It's daybreak already?" Abu asked, rubbing his eyes.
"You would sleep all day if no one woke you up." Ayesha side-eyed her brother as she said this. It was obvious she was the one always waking him up.
Abu looked down with a sheepish smile. He hopped up and started folding their blanket.
I smiled seeing their interaction. Moved back to the canvas knapsack, pulled out two small boxes of milk and one of the flatbread I had bought the day before. I kept one of the milk boxes for myself, gave the other to the twins to share, and broke the bread for the three of us.
They looked at the milk box, puzzled, so I reached over and opened the screwed-on top.
"Drink from there," I instructed.
The twins ate in silence, the crunch of their dry bread echoing in the cavernous quiet of the desert morning. I sat a little apart from them, perched on a slab of sun-warmed rock as I drank my milk and had my flatbread, quietly finishing them off as I looked out into the distance.
My legs ached from yesterday's march, but the stiffness was nothing compared to the hollow weight in my chest.
I reached into my purse, one of the only things I'd managed to keep with me from before my world turned into this strange, heat-soaked nightmare. The zipper caught for a moment, almost as if it wanted to keep its contents safe from my trembling fingers.
Inside, tucked into the clear plastic sleeve, was the small photograph. Hanes stood there in his favorite grey shirt, smiling faintly like he always did when trying to look serious. His arm was around my shoulders, his other hand holding our little Kane, barely a year old at the time. My baby's cheeks were plump, his hair in soft tufts, his mouth caught mid-giggle.
My vision blurred. I didn't dare blink, because the moment I did, I feared I'd lose the warmth in their faces.
I whispered to the picture, the words barely passing my lips.
"I'm coming back to you. No matter what this world throws at me, I'll find my way home."
The wind picked up, a dry hiss that seemed to agree and mock me all at once. The twins glanced at me but said nothing, as if they understood there were parts of me still stuck in another place, another life.
We were still a day from the City of Bones, according to the old woman. A place where the sand swallowed screams and old bones never truly stayed buried. But if that city were my only route forward, I'd walk into its heart without hesitation.
The sun was climbing higher, the desert heat beginning to press down. I tucked the photo away carefully, as if sealing a piece of my own heart.
One more day. That's how long I had to hold on for before I'd know if the road would bring me closer to home… or bury me here with the rest of the lost.