On a Portsmouth beach, between a cramped room and an elderly companion, Aya is forced to confront herself.
An escape from a wounded homeland, a family burdened by loss, and a marriage without a voice.
A voice from the past, an open space to confess all that she has long kept silent about.
And a face from the present, rearranging the chaos of her heart.
This is not a novel, but a chronicle of enduring Arab suffering.
A memory of wars.
Exiles harsher than alienation.
And women who carry defeat in their bodies and in their stifled voices.
– Suzanne Khalki
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