The Thief Read Online Free PDF Page A

cursed them again with a plain, clumsy daughter—a daughter who had been a disappointment to them for twenty years.
    Her mother snatched the jar of grain and hurried to kneel at the stone quern, pouring out a generous measure to grind but spilling as much on the dirt.
    Nissa curled her hands into fists, her nails biting into her palms. We don’t have enough grain to waste, Mama.
    Her father stood with his hands on his hips. His hair, almost completely gray, was bushy and unkempt, as was his beard. His eyes were bloodshot, and his full lips cast in a perpetual frown. “I come home to no food, a wife who can hardly stand up, and no daughter to wash my feet after a day of labor.” He pushed past her and lowered his body onto a bench beside the door.
    Day of labor? Abba hadn’t labored today, unless he counted throwing dice as work. He’d left Amit tied up instead of carrying bundles of kindling to sell in the wood market. Cedron squeezed her arm. She bit down on her lower lip and patted his hand. Don’t worry. I won’t make him angrier.
    She poured water into a wide clay bowl and brought it to her father. Kneeling before him, she untied his sandals like a good Jewish daughter.
    He set his dirty feet in the water. “And where were you when you should have been preparing bread for us?”
    Nissa tensed. What could she say? “I found work for the day. Weaving.”
    “And did you get paid?” her father jerked, tipping the bowl sideways and sloshing water on the ground.
    Nissa lunged to rescue the bowl before it broke. “She . . . she said she’d pay me tomorrow.” Her voice wavered like an old woman’s.
    “Give it to me.” Her father held out his hand.
    She shook her head. “I don’t have it.” That was the truth.
    His hand snaked behind her neck and closed on her hair. He jerked down until she was forced to look up at him. “You have it. I know you. Now give it to me.”
    He demanded her money when he’d spent the day gambling his away? “When Elijah returns.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wished them back.
    Her father’s face darkened with anger. “Don’t get mouthy with me, girl.”
    Didn’t Abba understand? They needed the money for rent. “But Gilad was looking for you today.”
    “I curse Gilad and the womb that bore him. He stole enough from me today. I’m the father and the head of this family.” He stood, dragging her up by her hair. The bowl pitched to the side and broke against the rocky ground. His other hand dipped into the folds of her belt and came back empty.
    “Where is it?”
    She shook her head and blinked back tears from the stinging pain in her scalp.
    He released her hair and pushed her away. “Why did the Lord curse me? A blind son and a daughter who can do nothing right. You got a job weaving! The woman must be as blind as your brother. Your fingers can neither weave nor spin. And your cooking! No wonder no man wants you.”
    He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her so hard her teeth rattled. “Now. Give me what you earned today.”
    “No.” She wrenched away, pain scorching through her injured shoulder. She ran behind her mother—still swaying over the wheat—as if she could help her. “You’ll only gamble it away. Like you do with everything we earn. Why don’t you go gather wood and sell it, use your own money for the dice!”
    He came after her, his fist raised.
    But she couldn’t stop. Words flew from her mouth. “I won’t work so you can throw dice with the pagans and so she”—Nissa tipped her head toward her mother—“can drink up the rest in cheap wine. The neighbors call you am-ha-arez , and they are right!”
    Her father swung. She saw a burst of stars as his fist connected with her cheek. Pain arced behind her eyes. She fell to the ground with a swallowed cry.
    “Stop, Abba!” Cedron stood suddenly, holding out his hand. “Father. I have it. I took it.”
    Abba was breathing heavily, but he didn’t advance on