She is beginning to see: All who are here are Muslim, but some are more Muslim than others

Bilhah stands outside the physicians’ rooms, staring at the Arabic phrase rendered on the wall in green and white mosaic. She can identify one or two of the letters: an elif and a zay. She squints. It would be clearer if it were written in ink on parchment, not out of tiny fractured tiles.

The door opens, and a girl emerges, book under her arm. She doesn’t look like the newcomers but walks with a calm confidence. She watches Bilhah looking at the mosaic and turns and translates the passage:

Take advantage of five before five: your youth before old age; your health before sickness; your wealth before poverty; your free time before you become occupied; and your life before your death.

“Eloquent, is it not, for the entrance of the physicians’ rooms?”

Bilhah nods. “Is this the place of your occupation?”

The girl shakes her head. Her face is wide and flat, with narrow eyes; she is no palace butterfly, but she has an unmistakable presence. “I borrow some of the scrolls at times.”

“But you know Arabic?”

Careful, Bilhah, do not sound too eager.

“Yes, indeed.”

“I am eager… to read the Prophet’s wisdom.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Really? I find it a bit… disjointed.”

Bilhah cannot help the laugh that comes. She is beginning to see: All who are here are Muslim, but some are more Muslim than others.