الرَّقْمُ السَّادِسُ

فِي صَبَاحِ الْيَوْمِ التَّالِي، وَصَلَتْ لِينَا إِلَى طَاوِلَةِ عَمَلِهَا قَبْلَ أَنْ يَصِلَ أَوَّلُ الزَّبَائِنِ. بَقِيَتْ سِتَّةُ أَيَّامٍ عَلَى افْتِتَاحِ السُّوقِ الْجَدِيدِ. وَكَانَ عَلَيْهَا أَنْ تُنْهِيَ لَوْحَاتٍ كَثِيرَةً.

The following morning, Lina arrived at her worktable before the first customers. Six days remained until the new market opened, and she still had many signs to finish.

وَضَعَتْ دَفْتَرَهَا عَلَى الطَّاوِلَةِ. أَمْسِ قَرَّرَتْ أَنْ تَسْأَلَ أَمَلَ عَمَّا حَدَثَ. لَكِنَّ أَمَلَ لَمْ تَصِلْ بَعْدُ، وَكَانَ أَمَامَ لِينَا عَمَلٌ يَنْتَظِرُهَا.

She put her notebook on the table. Yesterday she had decided to ask Amal what had happened. But Amal had not arrived yet, and Lina had work waiting for her.

كَانَتْ لَوْحَةُ أَمَلَ مَا زَالَتْ عِنْدَ الْحَائِطِ، فِي الْمَكَانِ الَّذِي تَرَكَتْهَا فِيهِ أَمْسِ. لَمْ تَضَعْ لِينَا فَوْقَهَا شَيْئًا. وَكَأَنَّهَا لَا تُرِيدُ أَنْ يَخْتَفِيَ الِاسْمُ تَحْتَ الْخَشَبِ.

Amal's sign was still by the wall, where Lina had left it yesterday. Lina had not stacked anything on top of it, as though she did not want the name to disappear beneath the wood.

جَاءَتْ صَبَاحُ وَمَعَهَا كُوبُ شَايٍ. قَالَتْ: «وَضَعْتُ السُّكَّرَ الْيَوْمَ. لَا تَنْظُرِي إِلَيَّ هَكَذَا». قَالَتْ لِينَا: «لَمْ أَقُلْ شَيْئًا». فَأَجَابَتْ أُمُّهَا: «وَهَذَا مَا يُقْلِقُنِي».

Sabah came with a cup of tea. “I put sugar in it today. Don't look at me like that.” “I didn't say anything,” Lina replied. “That's what worries me,” her mother said.

ابْتَسَمَتْ لِينَا وَأَخَذَتِ الْكُوبَ. كَانَتْ صَبَاحُ تَعْرِفُ وَجْهَ ابْنَتِهَا جَيِّدًا. وَلَكِنَّهَا لَمْ تَسْأَلْ عَنْ أَمَلَ أَوْ خَدِيجَةَ. بَدَأَ النَّاسُ يَطْلُبُونَ الشَّايَ، فَعَادَتْ إِلَى عَمَلِهَا.

Lina smiled and took the cup. Sabah knew her daughter's face well, but she did not ask about Amal or Khadija. People were beginning to order tea, so she returned to her work.

كَانَتْ لِينَا تَحْتَفِظُ بِأَلْوَاحِ الْخَشَبِ فِي صُنْدُوقٍ كَبِيرٍ خَلْفَ الطَّاوِلَةِ. فِيهِ أَلْوَاحٌ جَدِيدَةٌ، وَأُخْرَى عَلَيْهَا أَسْمَاءٌ قَدِيمَةٌ. وَفِي أَسْفَلِهِ وَرَقٌ وَقِطَعٌ صَغِيرَةٌ مِنَ الْخَشَبِ.

Lina kept wooden boards in a large box behind the table. There were new boards and others bearing old names. At the bottom were papers and small pieces of wood.

فَتَحَتِ الصُّنْدُوقَ وَأَخْرَجَتْ لَوْحَتَيْنِ لَمْ تَكْتُبْ عَلَيْهِمَا بَعْدُ. وَعِنْدَمَا رَفَعَتْ لَوْحَةً ثَالِثَةً، رَأَتْ رَقْمًا صَغِيرًا عَلَى ظَهْرِهَا. كَانَ الرَّقْمُ «٦».

She opened the box and took out two boards she had not yet painted. When she lifted a third, she saw a small number on its back: “6.”

قَلَبَتْ لِينَا اللَّوْحَةَ. كَانَ وَجْهُهَا خَالِيًا، وَكَانَ خَشَبُهَا نَاعِمًا. هِيَ الَّتِي كَتَبَتِ الرَّقْمَ عَلَى الظَّهْرِ بِقَلَمِ رَصَاصٍ عِنْدَمَا وَصَلَ الْخَشَبُ. لَكِنَّهَا نَسِيَتْ هَذِهِ اللَّوْحَةَ.

Lina turned the board over. Its front was blank and its wood smooth. She herself had written the number on the back in pencil when the wood arrived, but she had forgotten about this board.

«لَوْحَةٌ أُخْرَى لِلْبَابِ السَّادِسِ؟» قَالَتْ ذَلِكَ بِصَوْتٍ مُنْخَفِضٍ. لَمْ يَكُنْ فِي الْأَمْرِ شَيْءٌ خَطِيرٌ. فِي أَيَّامِ الِانْتِقَالِ، طَلَبَ التُّجَّارُ أَشْيَاءَ كَثِيرَةً، ثُمَّ غَيَّرُوا رَأْيَهُمْ.

“Another board for Door Six?” she said quietly. There was nothing alarming about that. During the move, traders had ordered many things and then changed their minds.

أَخَذَتْ دَفْتَرَ الطَّلَبَاتِ وَقَلَّبَتْ صَفَحَاتِهِ. كَانَتْ تَكْتُبُ فِيهِ مَا يَطْلُبُهُ النَّاسُ، وَتَارِيخَ كُلِّ طَلَبٍ. لَمْ تُحِبَّ أَنْ تَنْسَى وَعْدًا، وَلَا أَنْ تَطْلُبَ ثَمَنَ عَمَلٍ مَرَّتَيْنِ.

She took her order book and turned its pages. She wrote down what people ordered and the date of each order. She disliked forgetting a promise—or charging twice for the same job.

وَجَدَتْ سَطْرًا قَصِيرًا كَتَبَتْهُ بِيَدِهَا: «خَدِيجَةُ — لَوْحَةٌ جَدِيدَةٌ لِلْبَابِ ٦». وَبِجَانِبِ السَّطْرِ كَانَ تَارِيخٌ قَدِيمٌ.

She found a short line in her own handwriting: “Khadija — new board for Door 6.” Beside the line was an earlier date.

حَسَبَتْ لِينَا الْأَيَّامَ بِأَصَابِعِهَا. كَانَتْ خَدِيجَةُ قَدْ طَلَبَتْ هَذِهِ اللَّوْحَةَ قَبْلَ افْتِتَاحِ السُّوقِ بِسِتَّةَ عَشَرَ يَوْمًا. أَيْ مُنْذُ عَشَرَةِ أَيَّامٍ.

Lina counted on her fingers. Khadija had ordered the board sixteen days before the market opening—ten days ago.

تَذَكَّرَتْ لِينَا ذَلِكَ الْيَوْمَ. كَانَتْ خَدِيجَةُ مُسْتَعْجِلَةً، وَطَلَبَتْ خَشَبًا جَدِيدًا لِلْبَابِ السَّادِسِ. لَمْ تَذْكُرْ اسْمًا. وَظَنَّتْ لِينَا أَنَّهَا تُرِيدُ لَوْحَةً إِضَافِيَّةً إِذَا فَسَدَتْ لَوْحَةٌ أُخْرَى.

Lina remembered that day. Khadija had been in a hurry and asked for new wood for Door Six. She had not mentioned a name. Lina assumed she wanted a spare board in case another was damaged.

وَضَعَتْ لِينَا اللَّوْحَةَ عَلَى الطَّاوِلَةِ، ثُمَّ أَعَادَتْهَا إِلَى الصُّنْدُوقِ. لَمْ تَفْهَمْ لِمَاذَا تَحْتَاجُ خَدِيجَةُ إِلَى لَوْحَتَيْنِ لِلْبَابِ نَفْسِهِ. لَكِنَّ هَذَا لَمْ يَكُنْ سُؤَالَهَا الْأَوَّلَ الْيَوْمَ.

Lina set the board on the table, then returned it to the box. She did not understand why Khadija needed two boards for the same door. But it was not the first question she wanted answered today.

كَانَ عَلَيْهَا أَنْ تَكْتُبَ اسْمَ تَاجِرٍ آخَرَ قَبْلَ الظُّهْرِ. جَلَسَتْ وَفَتَحَتْ عُلْبَةَ الطِّلَاءِ. وَلَمَّا لَمَسَتِ الْفُرْشَاةُ الْخَشَبَ، سَمِعَتْ صَوْتًا يَقُولُ: «صَبَاحُ الْخَيْرِ. هَلْ عِنْدَكِ لَوْحَاتٌ جَاهِزَةٌ؟»

She had another trader's name to paint before noon. She sat down and opened her paint tin. As her brush touched the wood, she heard someone say, “Good morning. Do you have any finished signs?”

كَانَ رَامِي وَاقِفًا أَمَامَ الطَّاوِلَةِ، وَفِي يَدَيْهِ وَرَقَةٌ وَحَبْلٌ طَوِيلٌ. كَانَ يَعْمَلُ فِي مَكْتَبِ التُّجَّارِ، وَيُسَاعِدُ فِي تَرْتِيبِ أَشْيَائِهِمْ لِلسُّوقِ الْجَدِيدِ.

Rami stood in front of the table with a sheet of paper and a long piece of string in his hands. He worked in the traders' office and helped organise their things for the new market.

قَالَتْ لِينَا: «أَهْلًا، يَا رَامِي. اِحْذَرِ الطِّلَاءَ، فَهُوَ لَمْ يَجِفَّ بَعْدُ». اقْتَرَبَ وَنَظَرَ إِلَى اللَّوْحَاتِ. «جِئْتُ لِآخُذَ مَا انْتَهَيْتِ مِنْهُ. نُرِيدُ أَنْ نَضَعَ بَعْضَ اللَّوْحَاتِ فِي السُّوقِ الْجَدِيدِ الْيَوْمَ».

“Hello, Rami. Watch the paint—it hasn’t dried yet,” Lina said. He came closer and looked at the signs. “I've come for the ones you've finished. We want to put some of them in the new market today.”

رَفَعَتْ لِينَا ثَلَاثَ لَوْحَاتٍ مِنْ فَوْقِ الرَّفِّ. كَانَ الطِّلَاءُ عَلَيْهَا جَافًّا. مَدَّ رَامِي الْحَبْلَ، وَسَاعَدَتْهُ لِينَا عَلَى رَبْطِهَا. كَانَ يَعُدُّهَا بِصَوْتٍ خَافِتٍ.

Lina lifted three signs from the shelf. Their paint had dried. Rami laid out the string, and Lina helped him tie them together. He counted them under his breath.

جَاءَتْ صَبَاحُ مِنْ دُكَّانِ الشَّايِ وَسَأَلَتْهُ: «أَلَا تُرِيدُ كُوبًا؟» قَالَ رَامِي: «بَعْدَ أَنْ أُنْهِيَ هَذَا الْعَمَلَ». فَقَالَتْ: «هَذَا مَا تَقُولُهُ كُلَّ مَرَّةٍ». وَلَمْ يَرُدَّ، لِأَنَّهُ كَانَ يُمْسِكُ طَرَفَ الْحَبْلِ بِأَسْنَانِهِ.

Sabah came over from the tea stall. “Don't you want a cup?” she asked. “After I finish this work,” Rami said. “That's what you say every time.” He did not reply, because he was holding one end of the string between his teeth.

لَمَّا انْتَهَى، نَظَرَ رَامِي حَوْلَهُ. «وَأَيْنَ لَوْحَةُ الْبَابِ السَّادِسِ؟» سَأَلَ. وَقَعَ بَصَرُهُ عَلَى لَوْحَةِ أَمَلَ عِنْدَ الْحَائِطِ. «أَهَذِهِ هِيَ؟»

When he finished, Rami looked around. “And where is the sign for Door Six?” he asked. His eyes fell on Amal's sign by the wall. “Is that it?”

قَالَتْ لِينَا: «هَذِهِ اللَّوْحَةُ عَلَيْهَا اسْمُ أَمَلَ. خَدِيجَةُ طَلَبَتْ مِنِّي أَنْ أَكْتُبَ اسْمَ حَامِدٍ، وَلَكِنِّي لَمْ أَفْعَلْ ذَلِكَ بَعْدُ». وَأَعَادَتِ الْفُرْشَاةَ إِلَى الْكُوبِ.

“That sign has Amal's name on it. Khadija asked me to paint Hamid's name, but I haven't done that yet,” Lina said, putting her brush back in the cup.

تَوَقَّفَ رَامِي عَنِ الْعَمَلِ. ثُمَّ قَالَ: «فِي الْقَائِمَةِ الْجَدِيدَةِ اسْمُ حَامِدٍ أَمَامَ الرَّقْمِ السَّادِسِ». كَانَ صَوْتُهُ هَادِئًا، وَكَأَنَّهُ يَقْرَأُ مِنْ وَرَقَةٍ.

Rami stopped working. Then he said, “On the new list, Hamid's name is beside number Six.” His voice was calm, as though he were reading from a sheet of paper.

قَالَتْ لِينَا: «أَعْرِفُ. قَرَأْتُ الْقَائِمَةَ أَمْسِ. وَلَكِنَّ أَمَلَ تَقُولُ إِنَّهَا لَمْ تُوَافِقْ عَلَى هَذَا التَّغْيِيرِ». نَظَرَ رَامِي إِلَى الطَّرِيقِ الْمَمْلُوءِ بِالنَّاسِ، ثُمَّ إِلَى اللَّوْحَاتِ الْمَرْبُوطَةِ.

“I know. I read the list yesterday. But Amal says she didn't agree to this change.” Rami looked at the crowded passage and then at the tied-up signs.

«خَدِيجَةُ تَقُولُ إِنَّ الْأَمْرَ انْتَهَى»، قَالَ رَامِي. سَأَلَتْ لِينَا: «وَهَلْ هَذَا مَا تَعْرِفُهُ أَنْتَ؟» سَكَتَ قَلِيلًا، ثُمَّ أَجَابَ: «أَعْرِفُ مَا فِي الْقَائِمَةِ».

“Khadija says the matter is settled,” Rami said. “And is that what you know yourself?” Lina asked. He was quiet for a moment, then replied, “I know what's on the list.”

لَمْ يَقُلْ أَكْثَرَ مِنْ ذَلِكَ. وَلَمْ تَرْفَعْ لِينَا صَوْتَهَا. كَانَ رَامِي يَحْمِلُ لَوْحَاتٍ، وَلَمْ يَكُنْ مِنَ الْعَدْلِ أَنْ تَطْلُبَ مِنْهُ جَوَابًا عَنْ كُلِّ شَيْءٍ.

He said no more, and Lina did not raise her voice. Rami was carrying signs; it would not be fair to demand that he answer for everything.

سَأَلَ رَامِي: «هَلْ سَتَكُونُ اللَّوْحَةُ الْجَدِيدَةُ جَاهِزَةً غَدًا؟» أَجَابَتْ لِينَا: «سَأُنْهِي مَا أَسْتَطِيعُ. أَمَّا اسْمُ الْبَابِ السَّادِسِ، فَلَنْ أَكْتُبَهُ قَبْلَ أَنْ أَفْهَمَ».

“Will the new sign be ready tomorrow?” Rami asked. “I'll finish what I can. But I won't paint a name for Door Six until I understand,” Lina said.

نَظَرَ إِلَيْهَا رَامِي نَظْرَةً قَصِيرَةً، ثُمَّ أَخَذَ اللَّوْحَاتِ وَخَرَجَ. بَعْدَ خُطْوَاتٍ تَوَقَّفَ لِيُصْلِحَ الْحَبْلَ عَلَى كَتِفِهِ. وَبَعْدَ ذَلِكَ مَشَى بِهَا نَحْوَ السُّوقِ الْجَدِيدِ.

Rami gave her a brief look, took the signs and left. A few steps away, he stopped to adjust the string on his shoulder, then carried them toward the new market.

عَادَتْ صَبَاحُ بِالْإِبْرِيقِ الْفَارِغِ. سَأَلَتْ: «لِمَاذَا لَمْ يَأْخُذْ لَوْحَةَ أَمَلَ؟» قَالَتْ لِينَا: «لِأَنَّهَا لَمْ تَعُدْ فِي الْقَائِمَةِ لِلْبَابِ السَّادِسِ».

Sabah returned with the empty kettle. “Why didn't he take Amal's sign?” she asked. “Because she's no longer listed for Door Six,” Lina said.

«وَلَكِنَّ اسْمَهَا مَا زَالَ عَلَى الْخَشَبِ»، قَالَتْ صَبَاحُ. «نَعَمْ»، أَجَابَتْ لِينَا. نَظَرَتِ الْأُمُّ إِلَى ابْنَتِهَا لَحْظَةً، ثُمَّ ذَهَبَتْ لِتَمْلَأَ الْإِبْرِيقَ بِالْمَاءِ.

“But her name is still on the wood,” Sabah said. “Yes,” Lina replied. Her mother looked at her for a moment, then went to refill the kettle.

حَاوَلَتْ لِينَا أَنْ تَعُودَ إِلَى الطِّلَاءِ، وَلَكِنَّهَا وَجَدَتْ نَفْسَهَا تَقْرَأُ دَفْتَرَ الطَّلَبَاتِ مَرَّةً أُخْرَى. كَانَ السَّطْرُ قَصِيرًا جِدًّا. لَمْ يَكُنْ فِيهِ اسْمُ أَمَلَ وَلَا اسْمُ حَامِدٍ.

Lina tried to go back to painting, but found herself reading the order book again. The line was very short. It contained neither Amal's name nor Hamid's.

فَكَّرَتْ: رُبَّمَا كَانَتِ اللَّوْحَةُ الْجَدِيدَةُ لِحَالَةٍ عَادِيَّةٍ. رُبَّمَا كَانَتْ خَدِيجَةُ تُرِيدُ لَوْحَةً إِضَافِيَّةً فَقَطْ. وَمَعَ ذَلِكَ، وَضَعَتْ لِينَا عَلَامَةً صَغِيرَةً بِقَلَمِهَا عِنْدَ التَّارِيخِ.

Perhaps the extra board was for an ordinary reason, she thought. Perhaps Khadija simply wanted a spare. Still, Lina made a small pencil mark beside the date.

بَعْدَ سَاعَةٍ، خَرَجَتْ لِينَا لِتَبْحَثَ عَنْ أَمَلَ. كَانَ الطَّرِيقُ بَيْنَ الدَّكَاكِينِ مَمْلُوءًا بِالصَّنَادِيقِ. هُنَاكَ رَجُلٌ يَحْمِلُ كُرْسِيًّا، وَامْرَأَةٌ تَعُدُّ أَكْيَاسَ الدَّقِيقِ أَمَامَ مَكَانِهَا.

An hour later, Lina went to look for Amal. The passage between the shops was crowded with boxes. A man carried a chair, and a woman counted bags of flour outside her stall.

رَأَتْ لِينَا بَعْضَ الْخُضْرَوَاتِ عَلَى طَاوِلَةِ أَمَلَ، وَلَكِنَّهَا لَمْ تَرَ أَمَلَ. تَوَقَّفَتْ وَانْتَظَرَتْ قَلِيلًا. وَبِجَانِبِهَا كَانَ بَائِعٌ يَجْمَعُ صَنَادِيقَهُ. بَدَا أَنَّ السُّوقَ كُلَّهُ يَسْتَعِدُّ لِتَرْكِ مَكَانِهِ الْقَدِيمِ.

Lina saw vegetables on Amal's table, but Amal was not there. She stopped and waited a little. Nearby, a trader was gathering his boxes. It seemed that the whole market was preparing to leave its old home.

ثُمَّ رَأَتْ أَمَلَ تَعُودُ وَهِيَ تَدْفَعُ عَرَبَتَهَا الثَّقِيلَةَ. كَانَتْ تَسِيرُ بِبُطْءٍ بَيْنَ الصَّنَادِيقِ، وَتَطْلُبُ مِنَ النَّاسِ أَنْ يَتْرُكُوا لَهَا طَرِيقًا. وَقَفَتْ لِينَا قُرْبَ الْحَائِطِ لِتَفْتَحَ لَهَا الْمَكَانَ.

Then she saw Amal returning, pushing her heavy cart. She moved slowly between the boxes, asking people to make way. Lina stood close to the wall to give her room.

قَالَتْ أَمَلُ: «شُكْرًا. لَوْ كَانَتِ الصَّنَادِيقُ تَسْتَطِيعُ الْمَشْيَ، لَأَرْسَلْتُهَا إِلَى السُّوقِ الْجَدِيدِ وَحْدَهَا». ضَحِكَتْ لِينَا. وَكَانَتْ هَذِهِ أَوَّلَ مَرَّةٍ تَسْمَعُ فِيهَا أَمَلَ تَمْزَحُ عَنْ الِانْتِقَالِ.

“Thank you. If boxes could walk, I'd send them to the new market by themselves,” Amal said. Lina laughed. It was the first time she'd heard Amal joke about the move.

سَأَلَتْ لِينَا: «هَلْ عِنْدَكِ وَقْتٌ بَعْدَ الظُّهْرِ؟ أُرِيدُ أَنْ أَفْهَمَ مَاذَا حَدَثَ لِلْبَابِ السَّادِسِ». نَظَرَتْ أَمَلُ إِلَى الزَّبَائِنِ الَّذِينَ بَدَؤُوا يَصِلُونَ.

“Do you have time after noon? I want to understand what happened with Door Six,” Lina asked. Amal glanced at the customers who were starting to arrive.

قَالَتْ أَمَلُ: «تَعَالَيْ بَعْدَ أَنْ أُنْهِيَ الْبَيْعَ. عِنْدِي وَرَقَةٌ أُرِيدُ أَنْ أُرِيَكِ إِيَّاهَا». ثُمَّ وَضَعَتْ يَدَهَا عَلَى الْقُمَاشِ فَوْقَ الْعَرَبَةِ، وَأَصْلَحَتْ طَرَفَهُ كَمَا فَعَلَتْ أَمْسِ.

“Come when I've finished selling. There's a paper I want to show you,” Amal said. Then she put her hand on the cloth over the cart and straightened its edge, just as she had yesterday.

أَرَادَتْ لِينَا أَنْ تَسْأَلَ عَنْ هَذِهِ الْوَرَقَةِ، وَلَكِنَّ امْرَأَةً وَقَفَتْ لِتَشْتَرِيَ الطَّمَاطِمَ. تَرَكَتْ لِينَا أَمَلَ مَعَ زَبُونَتِهَا، وَعَادَتْ إِلَى طَاوِلَةِ عَمَلِهَا. كَانَ لَدَيْهَا مَا تَفْعَلُهُ حَتَّى الظُّهْرِ.

Lina wanted to ask about the paper, but a woman stopped to buy tomatoes. She left Amal with her customer and returned to her worktable. She had plenty to do until noon.

عِنْدَ الطَّاوِلَةِ، فَتَحَتْ لِينَا دَفْتَرَهَا مِنْ جَدِيدٍ. كَتَبَتْ تَحْتَ تَارِيخِ طَلَبِ خَدِيجَةَ: «لَوْحَةُ الْبَابِ ٦ — بِلَا اسْمٍ». ثُمَّ كَتَبَتْ فِي صَفْحَةٍ أُخْرَى: «أَسْأَلُ أَمَلَ بَعْدَ الظُّهْرِ».

Back at her table, Lina opened her notebook again. Beneath the date of Khadija's order, she wrote: “Door 6 board — no name.” On another page she wrote: “Ask Amal after noon.”

لَمْ تَعْرِفْ لِينَا مَا الَّذِي سَتُثْبِتُهُ وَرَقَةُ أَمَلَ. وَلَمْ تَعْرِفْ لِمَاذَا طَلَبَتْ خَدِيجَةُ لَوْحَةً ثَانِيَةً مُبَكِّرًا. كَانَ عِنْدَهَا سُؤَالَانِ، وَلَمْ يَكُنْ عِنْدَهَا جَوَابٌ وَاحِدٌ بَعْدُ.

Lina did not know what Amal’s paper would prove, or why Khadija had ordered a second board so early. She now had two questions, and still not a single answer.

وَأَخَذَتْ فُرْشَاتَهَا وَعَادَتْ إِلَى الْحُرُوفِ الَّتِي تَعْرِفُ كَيْفَ تَكْتُبُهَا. وَبِجَانِبِ الْحَائِطِ بَقِيَتْ لَوْحَةُ أَمَلَ فِي مَكَانِهَا. أَمَّا اللَّوْحَةُ الثَّانِيَةُ، فَبَقِيَتْ فِي الصُّنْدُوقِ، وَعَلَى ظَهْرِهَا الرَّقْمُ نَفْسُهُ: «٦».

She picked up her brush and returned to the letters she knew how to paint. Beside the wall, Amal's sign remained where it was. The second board stayed in the box, bearing the same number on its back: “6.”