Her boat is berthed at the river’s edge, tethered next to an aged oak, whose crooked trunk throws its canopy out over the water. Zaleekhah knows that trees bent in this way often snap or break from their roots, but this one has managed to survive, despite its quirky shape and inhospitable location. She wonders how old the tree is, and what strange things it may have witnessed in its long life—but, then again, she is used to asking questions that have no apparent answers.
