At lunch that day, when I was quite sure Dr. Aziz was far away at the hospital beyond the city wall, I went to the market to fetch a cone of salt. I passed a set of metal doors I had passed nearly every day, this time counting the footsteps between his compound and mine. One hundred and two. So close. He must fall asleep to the same sounds, I realized. Metal doors being scraped shut, babies crying and hyenas whooping as they roam the neighbourhood scavenging for scraps. And if he were to listen closer: Bortucan blubbing, Nouria comforting her, Fathi's mouth falling open, catching flies, and me lying awake with a pounding heart wondering if that was him I could hear breathing in the distance.