Jazarah waited while Genet touched the foreheads of one pilgrim after another. When the last one had gone, she said, “Mother is ill. Come home, if only for a short time.”
Genet smiled weakly. “I cannot.”
“Surely Ajani can handle things for a few days.”
“No, sister, I cannot leave. I am bound to heaven–”
“Genet.”
“I know it is hard to–”
“Genet, stop it.”
“Stop–”
She crossed her arms. “This is not heaven and you are not God’s chosen prophet. Stop playing at it.”
Genet scowled. “These people need me.”
“Your family needs you,” Jazarah said and then left.
I.E. 
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