“Perhaps this will help you see what I see,” Reshma said, retrieving a crumpled printout of a
painting from her purse.
Ahmad stared at the image depicting several half-naked African slaves sitting on chairs with
chained hands. A scowling man behind them held a sword displaying the words, ‘Slaves Sold
Here.’
“The difference is we don’t need anyone to place chains on us; we place them on ourselves,”
Reshma said.
“You found this in the garden?” Ahmad asked, hoping to change the subject. He didn’t expect
someone like her to be that opinionated.
Reshma shrugged. “Perhaps we should conclude our bargain now.”
“Oh, okay,” Ahmad said, glancing at the sunset bleeding gol