“Tell Khozem he should leave for the university before I return.”“And if he doesn’t?” asked Samira, closing her beauty jars.“Then I’ll h...ve to deal with him when I come back, but you will press him onwards.”“And if he goes to Iran?”“Then push him in that direction. The difference between Mashad and Al Karim is minimal. They are both the best.”“Khozem should decide on his own what he should do. You push too much. You meddle too much in his affairs. How will he grow if he can’t decide for. A surge of anger joined the embarrassment. Was it really so ridiculous, the idea of kissing her? Yes, it probably is. ‘I’ve got to go,’ she muttered miserably and gathered her things. Michael stood in front of the door with his arms crossed, blocking it. He was staring at her, again. It always made her nervous when he did that, as if he might figure out what she was thinking. ‘Excuse me,’ she said, as neutrally as she could. Silently, he stepped aside. ‘See you later?’ ‘Sure.’ She hoped it. More

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