Call Me Kana

A little child darted out of the crowd and tugged on the woman’s skirt. “Sister, hungry!” he whined.

The woman smiled and ruffled his hair, and Rastaban swallowed hard. Behind him, Khouri and Rhajj shifted uneasily.

“All right, I shall cook soon. These travelers will dine with us tonight, so you be on your best behavior, hm?”

The boy peered up at Rastaban with wide, dark eyes. “Brother?” he asked.

“No, not my brother,” the woman said. “We call everyone brother and sister here, but if that is not your tradition, you may call me Kana. Please, eat with us.”