Chapter 19 Amellal

The airport swallows us whole, its air heavy with dust, sweat, and kerosene.

I settle back against the cart seat, my hand resting instinctively upon the curve of my belly. Departures have always lifted me—each voyage a renewal, a flight into possibility.

But this time my spirit drags.

It begins suddenly—a bloom of warmth spilling through my chest.

I gasp, staring down as rivulets of golden liquid seep across my blouse, glimmering like threads of fire beneath the pitiless sun.

Karim’s green eyes lock with mine. No confusion, no disbelief—only recognition.

My body betrays presence whenever one of the fathers of my unborn children draws near.

On the tarmac: a white jet, burning against the horizon’s mirage, its blue letters stark against the light.

AMELLAL.

And there he is.

I.Ph.

© 2026 I.Ph. de Lange All rights reserved. Published by CYcrds OÜ.