Just a few words in a graceful hand, but they set my heart to pounding. Titus Aurelius was good enough to tell me you live in Bethar, Antinous had written. Would you welcome a visit? I looked up at the supercilious Imperial freedman who had delivered the scroll. I couldn’t speak, just nodded and carried the letter inside. Mirah was chopping turnips, and one glance at the way I stood tracing the signature with my thumb must have told her everything. Maybe she had prepared for this moment, since Hadrian and his entourage arrived in Judaea a few days ago. Because she took a deep breath and laid down her knife. “I know you love him. But if he is asking to visit us here, he cannot come. I cannot have him under this roof.” Anger flared in me. Mirah met it in my eyes, and her own were full of sorrow. “I’m sorry, Vix. But we cannot welcome him here.” She spoke in Aramaic.
