.”I watched him pray. I didn’t understand a word of it, because it’s not even modern Arabic and I don’t understand half of that. Like Catholic...prayers, they’re convoluted, stale sentences. I don’t know if they speak of peace, or compassion, or if they contain a request for guidance, but if they do then the meaning has long since been lost on those who speak them.Seeing him there, on his knees, reminded me of Sinterklaas. That’s a Dutch celebration, involving a bishop. I’ll have told you about. No signature. No return address. Just a random bouquet of roses from a man who evidently thought the world of her, and she could not even begin to guess at his identity.Ron? She thought for a second. No, no, it was definitely not him. Ron might have had the hots for her, but he wouldn't do this. Even if her birthday and Christmas was approaching.Dawn placed the flowers into a vase and set them on her kitchen table. It was a mystery that would be resolved another day.Dawn should have known. More

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