"This is real life," Kyra commented quietly beside her. "The village seems like a utopian dream." She turned to Fenella. "Do you miss it?"
She chuckled. "We've only been gone for less than an hour, so no, I don't miss it yet."
Kyra punched her shoulder playfully. "I mean life on the outside, among humans."
Fenella considered the question. "Yeah, but seeing it now up close, I'm less nostalgic. Not that it's bad. The streets are clean and there are no beggars on every corner, but still. It's not the village."
Jackson snorted. "We are in the better parts of the city. Some areas are drowning in trash, and drug addicts loiter on the streets. Naturally, I wouldn't take you there, but you should know that they exist even here, in one of the richest cities in the world. It's shameful, really, but it is what it is."
When Jackson finally pulled into a sprawling parking lot, Fenella glanced at the façade of the market, which featured both English and Persian script. Colorful displays of fresh produce were visible through the large windows. It looked clean and well-organized.
"Here we are," Jackson announced. "Wholesome Choice Market."
Max and Theo exited first, doing a subtle but thorough scan of the parking lot before nodding to the ladies and offering them a hand to help them out of the van.
As they approached the entrance, the automatic doors slid open to reveal a produce section that made Rana gasp with delight. Mountains of fresh herbs filled the air with fragrance—mint, basil, cilantro, and others Fenella couldn't identify. Pomegranates were piled high in pyramids, along with citruses of all kinds.
"Oh, look!" Parisa rushed to a display of fresh figs. "When was the last time we had proper figs?"
"And dates," Soraya added, examining the variety with a critical eye. "These are Mazafati dates from Bam. The best kind."
The sisters dispersed through the produce section like children in a candy store, calling out discoveries to each other, while Max and Theo looked distressed because they couldn't keep up with all of them.
Fenella was happy with following Kyra as she trailed after her sisters with an indulgent smile.
"Torshi!" Yasmin exclaimed from an aisle filled with glass jars. "They have propertorshi!"
"What'storshi?" Fenella asked.
"Pickled vegetables," Kyra said. "Every family has their own recipes. According to Soraya, our mother used to make the besttorshi-e bademjan—pickled eggplant. She learned from her mother, who learned from hers and so on."
Jackson lingered behind, making notes on his phone as the sisters rattled off products they wanted to stock.
"This is unbelievable," he said to Soraya as she explained the different types of rice and their uses. "I had no idea there was such variety. My knowledge of Middle Eastern cuisine is limited."
"Persian cuisine," Rana corrected with a touch of heat. "It's distinct from Arab food, though people often confuse them."
"My apologies," Jackson said sincerely. "Please, educate me. I want to understand."
That seemed to be the right response. Rana launched into an explanation of Persian culinary traditions as they led him toward the spice section. In contrast, the others followed, which seemed to make Max and Theo happy because the sisters were all clustered together.
"Saffron," Parisa breathed, handling a small container with reverence. "Real saffron, not the fake stuff they try to pass off in regular stores. It's so expensive, though."
"What's the difference?" Theo asked.
"Oh, you poor, poor man," Soraya said with something approaching pity. "Let me show you."
What followed was an impromptu lesson in spices that was too much information for Fenella, and definitely for the Guardians, who had probably never cooked anything more elaborate than steak.
Max caught her eye and smiled. "They are so happy," he said quietly. "This is the first time I've seen them so animated."
"Food is home in a way that's deeper than geography."
"You're philosophical for a Tuesday morning," Max teased. "Is the professor rubbing off on you?"
"He is," she admitted with a grin. "All those deep conversations over coffee."
After the spice aisle, in which the sisters had lingered way too long, they moved on to a section dedicated to fresh bread, and the sisters nearly wept over thesangak. Then it was dried fruits and nuts, tea supplies, and elaborate containers of rose water and orange blossom water.
"We need to stock all of this," Yasmin said. "Not just for us, but for the others in the village who might want to try new things."
"You can post recipes on the clan's bulletin board," Jackson suggested.
Soraya beamed like Fenella had never seen before. "I'm inviting you and your wife to dinner. You have to taste mytahdig."
"What's that?" Fenella asked.
"The crispy rice from the bottom of the pot," Parisa explained. "It's impossible to explain. You have to taste it to understand."
Jackson nodded. "I'm sure Tessa will be delighted to try your special dishes. I don't think she's familiar with them."
