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saw him pounce, and she ran from the courtyard to hide in the goat pen, plugging her ears to drown out the sounds of Abba’s blows and Sayfah’s pitiful screams. They seemed to last a long, long time.
    Amina held her sister in her arms later that night until she cried herself to sleep. But Amina couldn’t sleep. What had Abba meant when he’d said he’d be forced to do something if she didn’t stop limping? With all the drama that had taken place in her home that evening, she had forgotten all about Abba’s meeting with the other village men until she heard them gathering in the courtyard. Her brothers carried the bundled weapons from the storeroom to show the other men. Amina lay awake, listening to the faint clanking of metal, the murmurs of approval.
    “We bought enough weapons for everyone,” Abba said. “And I talked with other village leaders about their plans. Most of them plan to surround each Jewish settlement ahead of time so no one can escape.”
    “Herd them like sheep into a pen,” someone said.
    “Jerusalem’s walls and gates have never been rebuilt,” Abba continued. “The Jews wouldn’t be able to defend the city even if they were allowed to.”
    “Is it true that the temple treasuries hold a wealth of gold and silver?” someone asked.
    “It’s true. And we’re welcome to join that fight once the killing is finished in Bethlehem.”
    Amina stuffed her fingers into her ears and buried her headbeneath the covers so she wouldn’t hear any more. She fell asleep to muffled murmurs and laughter.
    The next morning, Amina and her mother walked to Bethlehem for market day. Abba made Sayfah stay home, her punishment for showing disrespect. “Feast your eyes on all of the Jews’ goods,” he told them before they left. “Remember, it’ll all be ours very soon.”
    The women from Amina’s village acted friendly toward the Jews as they bartered for goods in the market square, but Amina knew it was a lie. She let the other children run ahead of her as she searched the rows of booths for Hodaya’s. The piles of beautiful woolen cloth were easy to find, the weaving so much finer and more colorful than anything Amina would ever wear.
    “Well, good morning, Amina,” Hodaya said when she saw her. “I wondered if I would see you here today.”
    Amina ducked behind one of the piles where she wouldn’t be seen. “I have to tell you something,” she whispered. She glanced all around, her heart beating like birds’ wings. “The men in our village are going to kill you. I heard my father and the others planning it. Abba bought swords and weapons and—”
    “I know, little one. I know.” Hodaya’s gentle smile faded as tears filled her eyes. “We know all about the king’s decree.”
    “Are . . . are you scared?”
    “Not so much for myself, but I’m terrified for my grandchildren. The youngest is about your age, and I know how frightened she’ll be. I hate to think that her short life will end in fear. I’ve lived a good, long life, but the children—” She couldn’t finish. Amina reached to touch her arm as Hodaya wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry,” the older woman said after a moment. “I’m trying to remain brave for their sakes, but as the weeks race by and the day draws closer and closer . . . sometimes it’s very difficult.” She blew her nose in her handkerchief.
    “You need to run away,” Amina whispered. “I don’t want Abba to kill you.” But when she saw Hodaya’s crutch proppedalongside her, she knew the elderly woman wouldn’t be able to escape. Hodaya bent to give Amina a long, tight hug. Affection was so rare for Amina that she soaked it up like butter melting into warm bread.
    “It’s very sweet of you to be concerned for me,” Hodaya said. “You have a beautiful, tender heart.”
    “I hate my father for wanting to kill you,” she said when they finally pulled apart.
    “No, don’t hate him. Killing us isn’t his idea. The order came from the