The world seemed to contract, then slow to an almost unbearable crawl, the moment Amani's feet, clad in the simple trainers he'd worn on the long journey, touched the reddish-brown earth outside the Land Cruiser.
The familiar ambient sounds of the Kenyan coast – the distant, rhythmic rumble of the vehicle's cooling engine, Malik's cheerful, ongoing commentary to a beaming Coach Juma, the gentle, almost whispering rustle of palm fronds in the warm, salt-tinged coastal breeze – all of it seemed to recede, fading into an indistinct, distant hum.
His entire being, every nerve ending, every heightened sense, was laser-focused, irrevocably drawn to the solitary figure standing on the veranda of the new house.