My eyes linger on the mother-of-pearl plaque in Arabic script above the desk. I run my fingers over the curved letters, swirling like little breaths. “Can you read it?” I hear him ask behind me. I read aloud and then translate it for him: “Behind you is the sea. Before you, the enemy.” I glance at him then continue. “You have left now only the hope of your courage and your constancy.”
