The following week passed like a dream Farah wasn't quite sure she wanted to wake from.
Nael stayed longer than expected. His tent remained packed, untouched. Every day he helped her feed the animals, gather eggs, and repair old fences with Jiddo Omar. He even tried baking with Nana Salma—though the banana bread came out half-burned and weirdly salty.
But Farah laughed. Really laughed. And Nael had never wanted to bottle a sound more than that.
One late afternoon, the sky turned strange—thick and gray with a pulsing tension. A summer storm was brewing again.
Farah was in the barn when she noticed the goats bleating anxiously. She stepped out just in time to see a tree limb come crashing down near the sheep pen.
"Nael!" she shouted, running toward the fence. "We have to bring them in now!"
He appeared seconds later, already drenched from the first wave of rain, his shirt clinging to him.
"On it!" he called back.
Together they rushed through mud and wind, guiding the sheep toward shelter. Thunder cracked loud enough to shake the sky. Farah slipped once, and Nael caught her by the waist, pulling her upright, eyes wild and wide with adrenaline.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice raw.
She nodded, breathless. "Don't let go."
"I won't."
And he didn't.
By the time they got the last animal in, they were soaked, shivering, and breathing hard.
Inside the barn, Farah wiped her face with a towel and turned to find Nael staring at her—not in amusement this time, but something else. Something deeper.
"Why are you really here, Nael?" she asked, voice low.
He hesitated. "I came looking for a flower. I think I found something rarer."
Farah's heart stuttered. "You shouldn't say things like that."
"Why not?"
"Because you'll leave. You always leave."
The rain pounded the roof, and the barn was dim and warm and smelling of straw and storm.
Nael stepped closer, unsure if it was the thunder in his chest or the one outside.
"Maybe I don't want to."
Her breath caught.
But instead of answering, Farah turned and picked up a lantern. "Let's check on the animals."
Nael watched her walk away, light in hand, and realized that for the first time in years, the road no longer called to him louder than her voice.