Yaffa’le, a good girl at heart, from a good home, was alarmed. This was more than she’d bargained for
“So Yaffa’le said she needs my help,” Nechami says. “She’s in Sinai, remember? And they’re having some kind of… party.”
“A party.” Shua creases his forehead. “Aren’t they in the middle of the desert?” To him, Sinai means a wilderness, a gift, a hallowed destination.
“Oy, Shua. The desert where Yaffa’le is, isn’t your desert of Matan Torah. Where she is, they have electricity, running water, and a sound system, apparently, and lights.” Her imagination is too narrow to go further.
“And what did Yaffa’le want from you?”
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