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leaving. But that wasn’t who he was. ’Porting them to the closest large city for which he had a visual location lock, he checked them into a two-bedroom suite in a small, family-run hotel that had once been the residence of a famous artist.
    She didn’t object to the intimacy, no matter if it was breaking another taboo to cohabit with him in such private quarters. Being with Stefan made her happier than she’d been for a long time.
    â€œWhat do you want to do?” he asked, after they’d dropped their bags in their rooms.
    â€œShower properly, eat, then sleep.”
    â€œYou can have the bathroom first.” He sat down to take off his dusty boots. “I’ll research where we can find a good meal.”
    Laughing, she said, “There are market stalls everywhere. We’ll get some street food.”
    â€œIs that wise? Our bodies aren’t used to the bacteria in this region.”
    â€œWe’ve both had our inoculations.” It was ridiculous how many things they had to get inoculated against in order to work on Alaris.
    â€œWe also have to be healthy to get back on board.”
    â€œHmph.” Giving in, she went and showered, scrubbing and scrubbing until she finally felt clean.
    Afterward, she dressed in the local clothes she’d bought from the hotel boutique downstairs. She’d wanted something new and fresh, but she wasn’t prepared for how the long, colorful skirt and pretty white blouse would remind her of home, the memories knives stabbing into her soul.
    â€œAre you all right?” Stefan asked when she emerged.
    â€œI will be.” Her heart’s ache would never disappear, but at times she could forget. “Go, shower.”
    He looked at her for long moments before disappearing into the bathroom. In the meantime, she separated out their dirty clothes from the duffels, no longer shy about going through his things after the many times she’d grabbed nutrition bars for him. Gathering it all, she sent it down to the hotel laundry.
    Stefan, too, had bought new clothes and emerged wearing plain black pants in a material suitable for the desert climate, along with a long-sleeved white tunic that had white embroidery along the bottom edges and the neckline.
    She smiled. “You look like one of the men from my village.” Her fingers itched. “And your hair doesn’t curl.” She wanted to touch the silken strands, to run her fingers through them. “It has a wave.” If he let it grow out, it’d be beautiful.
    â€œI’ll need to get it cut soon.”
    â€œWait,” she whispered. “Wait until you absolutely have to.”
    His look was quiet. “There is no requirement that I cut it, but it gives the correct impression. You understand?”
    Because his Silence, she remembered, wasn’t without flaw. “Yes.” She would give up his beautiful hair if she could have this quiet, strong, courageous man who spoke to her, who looked at her in a way that made her feel as if she was a beauty. “Did you find somewhere for us to eat?”
    â€œNo,” he said. “I investigated if the inoculations we received will protect us from the microorganisms in this region.”
    A smile in her heart. “And?”
    â€œWe should be safe.”
    Laughing, feeling giddy and young and happy, she walked downstairs with him and out onto the busy street.

Chapter 7
    Voices rose and fell around them, a hundred conversations in progress.
    Their hotel was located in the old quarter, where the streets were narrow and homes backed onto shops, the market stalls snug against one another. Cobblestones lay beneath their feet, the walls around them set with mosaics and the food cooked over flaming open-air stoves.
    â€œLet’s try this,” she said, stopping at a stall serving up grilled vegetables on skewers.
    She didn’t say anything when Stefan paid, because in this part of the city, she