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I turned my attention back to the temple. This building was thousands of years old and it made me feel my mortality. It would be here long after I left. I wasn’t frightened but humbled by my realization. When I was finally able to tear away my gaze, it was to find my uncle gauging my reaction. He’d come to join me, and I hadn’t heard his quiet approach. He sent a small smile my way. My reaction must have passed a test. I’d been suitably awed.

“Welcome, Inez, to the birthplace of ancient Egypt.” He gestured to the calm stretch of the river. “This is the southern Nile Valley, the cradle of their civilization. Here you’ll find their earliest art carved on the rocks, their first city, and temple. On the island, you’ll see the last time anyone wrote in Egyptian hieroglyphics, the last breath of Egypt’s pagan religion before Philae became a Christian shrine.”

I shielded my eyes from the hot sun. “When was that?”

“Almost four hundred years after the death of Christ.” I glanced back at the island, so tiny and remote amid the long ribbon of the Nile. “There used to be an obelisk, smaller and deemed portable by a Mr. Bankes,” my uncle continued. “He sent it on to England where it decorates a country estate.”

Imagine looking at a centuries-old monument and thinking it would make a handsomelawn ornament.“That’s appalling.”

“In this case, it helped immeasurably to decipher the hieroglyphs,” he said.

I set my mouth to a stubborn line. “It doesn’t make it right.”

“No, it doesn’t.” He glanced at me, hazel eyes piercing. “Don’t forget your promise to me. You must never speak of your time here.”

“I won’t, Tío.” I glanced at the towers of Philae. “Are we staying on the island?”

Tío Ricardo nodded. “We have a campsite on the eastern side. You’re welcome to stay on theElephantineif you’d prefer to bypass the experience of sleeping in a makeshift tent of sorts.”

My hands curled tight over the railing. We had already gone over this. “Whatever accommodations you’ve constructed will be fine for me.”

My uncle merely shrugged before drawing the other men away to make preparations for disembarking. One of them inquired after Whit, but Tío Ricardo said, “He had a long night. Leave him be.”

I turned away from the railing and found him resting on one of the deck loungers. I only had a view of his profile, his eyelashes casting a shadow against his angled cheekbones.

He was a handsome young man.

Who could not be trusted. The fact that I wanted to appalled me. I had too much to lose to place my faith in the wrong person. Mr. Hayes reported to my uncle, but there was a small part of me that wished he were onmyteam. That he would move heaven and earth to help see me through the mess I was in. Perhaps it was only loneliness that made me feel that way, but I suspected it was actually because I liked Whit, and I wanted him to like me back.

I pushed away from my spot on the deck and went below to pack my purse and canvas bag, determined to be ready to leave when it was time.

I wouldn’t be left behind again.

I stared at my home for the duration of the excavation season. The crumbling structure was rectangular shaped with no ceiling or doors to speak of. It was partitioned into five narrow rooms, the width of each amounting to no more than four or five feet. Looking at it from the front, it resembled a wide-toothed comb, with the bedrooms fitted between each spindle.

“We’re sleeping in there?”

“That’s right,” Whit said.

I took inventory: no washroom or lavatory. No kitchen or main living space to rest after a long day, presumably spent digging. No place to store clothing.

“Having regrets?” he asked, smirking.

I met his gaze head on. “Do you have an extra chamber pot?”

His grin faded. He turned away, but not before I caught the faintest blush staining his cheeks. I’d embarrassed him. I never thought such a thing would be possible. I studied him more carefully, noting how his eyes looked surprisingly clear. Less red-rimmed and more alert. He’d lost his flask in the Nile, but there was plenty of drink on board theElephantine. He must not have been partaking.

The realization was like an arrow to my heart. To me, it didn’t seem like he was drinking to enjoy it, but rather to forget. This felt like the first step in a new direction.

I couldn’t help wondering what he ran from.

“This building is all that remains from the dormitories belonging to the priests who lived on Philae,” Whit said after a beat. “The walls are made of limestone without any embellishment or decoration, and so your uncle thought we might use them as the priests once did.” He pointed to the top. “We’ve stretched out a long tarp above and, as you can see, curtains have been placed in front of each division to act as doors. Your uncle, Abdullah, and I each have a room while Mr. Fincastle and his daughter will share one.”

“Plenty of space for me,” I concluded, picking one of the empty rooms. “Without it, I suspect I would have been left behind on theElephantine. Who else slept here?”

“Your parents,” he said, watching me closely. “They slept in the same exact quarters.”

It still happened. That feeling of having been dropped a hundred feet at the mention of Mamá and Papá. The feeling that I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs fast enough. It would always feel this way. The pain was a forever fixture in my life. Much like having arms and legs and ears. Their death was a truth that was both strange, and yet profoundly ordinary. People died every day. Well-meaning distant relations told me that one day I’d be able to move past it. But I’d traveled thousands of miles only to discover that I couldn’t leave this new weight I carried behind me.