Page 9 of Diamond

As Tehlmar and I move through the trees, my first thought is how the sky looks like a radioactive sunset, with a pale-yellow sun, like something out of a sci-fi movie.

A strained smile stretches across the side of my mouth as I remember thatbabaused to really adore the genre. He wanted to be an astronaut as a child but inherited the family's butcher shop and threw away his dreams of traversing space, but he kept the faith alive with stories.

If he were still alive, I'd find a way to make it home just to tell him I left Earth. My smile fades as I think of how much of my life has centered around those few words.

If he were still alive.

My life shrunk to almost nothing because of his death, with people telling me I needed to simply move on. But move on to what? There was no room left to breathe, let alone live.

Now, here I am, with no restrictions on me, an open world and sky. It's terrifying.

I shake my head, frustrated that I'm letting my mind wander, even though it's hard to focus right now. My hand goes to my hair again, and I pull it to eye level. I'm still in shock at its whiteness after twenty-three years of having brown, extremely frizzy curls I never appreciated.

Why was it changed? The desire to cover it surges more than ever.

My mind drifts to my hijab collection, collecting dust on the wooden hangers in my room. What would be more helpful, though, is something to cover my body.

I lost a bit of weight after moving in with my brother, but my thighs are still thick, and my stomach is padded. Although I'm not ashamed of my body, it's not meant to be on display like this for anyone to see. This jumpsuit emphasizes every curve, and I know that if my parents had the displeasure of seeing me in this, they would be appalled.

Tehlmar strides forward, ignoring me. It's almost as if he forgets we're walking together, only remembering periodically when he turns to glance down at me, as if checking that I'm still alive.

I don't mind the silence because it gives me time to process my new reality and figure out how I got here. Not that I've made any progress in understanding that. Everything feels stretched out since eating at the table with Bibi, almost like I've been dreaming. But I know for a fact that I didn't dream those horrifying genali doing something to me.

With a start, I remember the look on her face. She did this to me. A shiver runs down my skin and my heart contracts painfully. Did she… sell me? Then I remember that my brother was there and it feels like a knife inserted through my ribs.

They did. They sold me so I wouldn't be a problem anymore. I didn't have any illusions that my life would be easy, but that is nothing I ever thought possible. And so here I am.

It's hard to breath for several long moments, but I force my mind away from it, concerned that if I let myself feel that betrayal that it'll make the fear harder to contain. That I'll be right back to that cowering child I vowed to never be again.

So, instead, I try to figure out what is going on.

It doesn't take a genius to see that this is some kind of interplanetary trafficking, and I'm not the first woman they have done this to. My head starts to throb again and I palm my temple, wishing I was back home with a bowl of eucalyptus oil.

Or maybe back home, period.

Eager to escape my thoughts, I turn to Tehlmar. "Are there more things like the genali out here?" I ask, stepping over a bramble.

"The genali are everywhere," he responds, "it is hard to avoid them. The braceaaer as well, devious little things."

I gasp. "There's more than one kind?"

A fresh fear settles itself in the pit of my belly and I almost lose my footing.

"Yes, they're the most dangerous species on this planet, aside from me. The genali are technologically advanced and their main targets are females. They abduct them and kill anything in their way unless it has some use to them. This is one of their hunting grounds. "

"They are horrible," I say, recalling the look in the genali's eyes as he leered at me through the glass cage.

"Not many people survive an encounter with them, so count yourself lucky I was there to rescue you."

His words have a gloating edge, and I catch myself judging him through a lens of distaste. It's not the first time he has made reference to his role as my "knight in shining armor," and it's starting to grate on me.

I was there; I saw it all and don't need the reminder.

Mid-thought, I shake my head, chastising myself. I shouldn't think this way about someone who saved my life. Besides, maybe I'm misjudging him because I don't understand his culture?

He continues to speak, and I listen eagerly. "The braceaaer are small, gray-green aliens that—"

I interrupt, "Let me guess, they hate women too?" He makes a chittering sound, then puffs, his shoulders shaking in amusement.