Chapter Twenty Nine

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... Madeline ...

I awoke with a sense of danger. I looked around to see that Aladdin was silently sitting at the end of his bed, staring out the window in a daze.

"Aladdin?" I spoke quietly, afraid that if I was too loud, then I would startle him.

He sighed as he looked away from the outside and turned to look at me. His voice was hoarse as he said, "Good morning..."

"Is everything alright?" I stood up and started to make my way over to the kitchen - which was only about eight feet away - and sat at the table.

He was silent, and I watched as he walked towards me and pulled a chair out for himself.

"I know you probably don't want to tell me, but maybe if..."

"You want to know why I was outside last night?"

I lowered my eyes to where his hands were folded on the table. His knuckles were turning white. I flickered my eyes back up to his, and answered bluntly, "Yes."

"And why should I tell you?"

"Because I am part of this now, too. If you didn't want me to know certain things about you, then you probably shouldn't have offered a place for me to stay."

He knew I made a good point. He gave a small smile, and said softly, "You're right. But I didn't have much choice, now, did I?"

I raised an eyebrow. "You didn't have much choice? Why? You could've left me in the desert if you wanted to."

"I would've. But I couldn't. This is something you can't understand... for now."

I rolled my eyes, "I only 'can't understand' because you aren't telling me anything."

"I realize this. But it would be dangerous to tell you some things."

"Then can you tell me one thing?"

"It depends."

"Why were you out last night, when it is clearly dangerous to even be seen after dark?"

He thought for a moment, afraid to say too much. "Before I answer your question, you must understand how hard it is for me to live like this," he gestured toward his dusty, rundown home.

I nodded.

"My father was a stubborn old man until the day that he died. He never wanted help from anyone. In fact, when my family was bankrupt, he refused to tell our mother... and our mother was wealthy. But they had divorced, because of how often they had fought together. So our father didn't want our mother to come to the rescue and say how she 'would have been a better parent and provider for us than he would've'. So he made me and my two brothers work at the market for a living. We didn't know what he did during the day, or during the night. We still don't know to this day what our father did. Point being, we were poor, and we were taught while growing up that no one would help us in life; that we had to take care of ourselves and those close to us. Otherwise, we would all starve to death."

I realized what he was doing. "Aladdin... I don't like where this is going."

He looked down, knowing that I wasn't going to accept his poor choices.

"You are stealing, aren't you?"

He didn't move a muscle.

"Aren't you?" I raised my voice, standing now, the chair I sat on falling to the floor. "And last night you thought I could help you with this? With stealing? You are a street rat! You don't steal from innocent people that are trying to make a living, just like you were. They are trying their best to make it through the day, and you just swipe away their hard work like it's nothing. I'm not going to help you with this. This is wrong. You ought to be ashamed of yourself."

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