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was completely typical and she should have absolutely anticipated.
    Fenton was ten, and he’d grown up in boarding schools in England while Edna had spent the years in India with her husband, Colonel Wallace. 
    The Colonel was recently deceased, Edna a widow, and she was struggling to figure out how to be a mother to Fenton, but he wasn’t interested in being mothered.  He didn’t like to be told what to do, so they constantly bickered and snapped.  Theo suspected too that he caused trouble merely to garner attention. 
    Edna hated to seem overly strict, so she ignored Fenton’s mischief.  If Fenton had sneaked off and left Theo, it would simply be another prank in a long line of pranks he wouldn’t stop playing.
    She scanned the crowd and thought she saw him flitting away toward the street.  At least she thought he was headed toward the street. 
    They’d been escorted to the bazaar by porters from the hotel who’d stayed in the courtyard by her rented chair so they could loaf in the shade under the trees.  Fenton and Theo had entered the marketplace by themselves, but she was swiftly realizing she shouldn’t have been so reckless. 
    She hurried after Fenton, and the scarf vendor shouted comments that had to be curses.  From her clothes and mannerisms, it was obvious she was a foreigner, so he’d likely hoped to cheat her and was angry he hadn’t had the chance.
    That was the lesson Edna had ceaselessly imparted about Egypt.  They weren’t to trust anyone, and every native person should be deemed capable of horrid behavior.  Theo wasn’t so condemning in her opinion of the locals.  So far, her interactions had been limited to employees at the hotel, and they’d been friendly and courteous and many of them were fluent in English.  If wicked conduct was swirling, she hadn’t noticed.
    She rushed along, being swept into the throng of people, but with her being just five-foot-five in her stockings, it was difficult to get her bearings.  She assumed she’d see the stone arches that marked the entrance, but they never came into view.
    For a moment, panic assailed her.  She was alone at a bazaar in Cairo, without a maid or chaperone, and her sole male companion had abandoned her to her own devices.  Fenton would be back at their rented chair, chortling with glee over how he’d tricked her. 
    But Theo wasn’t a flighty girl, wasn’t the type to panic.  She was a very elderly twenty-three, and for most of her life, she’d been alone.  Granted, it had been at her father’s Oakwood estate where she’d been an only child.  With a deceased mother and an absent father, there’d been few adults to fret or boss.
    She’d always set her own schedule, made her own plans, and kept her own appointments.  She’d never had a servant trailing after her, and she wasn’t about to suffer an attack of the vapors simply because she’d been caught in an awkward situation.
    She might suffer an attack of heat stroke though.  The temperature was insanely hot, and she was perspiring, sweat dripping off her face.  She slipped into an alcove where there was a bit of shade. 
    She took stock of her condition, wondering what to do, and she studied the crowd, anxious to see someone who looked as if he might speak English.  Before too much time had passed, a local man approached.  He was short and cleanly barbered, attired in a suit much like those worn by the employees at the hotel.  He halted in front of her and bowed. 
    “If this one may be so bold as to inquire,” he began in heavily accented English, “is the young lady lost?”
    “Yes.”  Theo flashed a wan smile.  “I was separated from my cousin, and I can’t find the main entrance.  I have porters waiting for me.”
    “The entrance is there.”  He gestured vaguely.  “May this one show you the way?”
    “I would appreciate it very much.”
    “Which hotel is your staying?”
    Initially, the convoluted wordage threw her, but she figured it