“ E mberego ,” she repeated softly — as if learning a prayer.
And somewhere, beyond the horizon, the woman in the locket smiled too. e mberego
And so he told her of a woman with salt in her hair and laughter like wind chimes. Of a dance under a tin roof during rain. Of a letter never sent, folded into a locket. “ E mberego ,” she repeated softly —
When he finished, the girl pressed her small hand over his heart. “ E mberego
“No,” he said. “It’s what I say when I close my eyes. E mberego — I remember.”
“What was her name?” she asked.