“No. It was night. Landon had taken you to bed… and… people began boarding the boat…” Her voice broke until it gave way to sobs, then she buried her face into the mattress, shoulders heaving.
Leila searched inside herself for some kind of feeling for her. But there was nothing. This woman was a stranger.
A minute passed until Aisha’s tears stopped flowing. She lifted her head again and used the back of her hand to wipe at her glistening cheeks.
“I’m sorry. So sorry. For not being able to watch you grow up or being there when you needed a mother and when Landon died. It should never have been this way but I—” Her eyes flickered to the chain then back to her lap.
Leila swallowed, though the lump in her throat remained stubbornly in place.
“I understand if you hate me. If you don’t believe me. But I’m telling the truth. My thoughts and heart were always with you. And to see you now is unbelievable. From what I hear you’re smart, courageous, and kind. Just like your father. I couldn’t be prouder.”
Their eyes met and Leila finally saw a woman who had lost everything she had lived for. A woman who had been broken. Broken and then only partly glued back together into something more fragile than before.
Leila’s hands clutched fistfuls of the comforter. “How do I get out of here?” Her voice was thick, on the verge of tears herself.
Aisha leaned forward to whisper, “I will do all I can to get you and your friend out. I will have to be careful. Amir is nothing less than a monster. He always has been. When he was a child he’d drown kittens or smash bird eggs. But I at least know a way to try and work around him.”
A glimmer of hope wriggled its way into the front of Leila’s mind. If she could escape, so could her mother. She swallowed, her throat burning. “Would you come with me?”
Aisha’s face dropped and a pang of disappointment shot through Leila’s chest. She was going to say no.
But Aisha offered her a weak smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The door opened and the veiled woman poked her head inside. She said something in Arabic, too rapidly for Leila to understand.
Aisha jumped to her feet and walked to the door. “I’ll try to visit again soon,” she said over her shoulder. Then she was gone.
• • •
The day crept by, devoid of any visits from Amir or her mother. It was as if it had all been a dream. But the chain weighed down her ankle, as real as anything else. The veiled woman, silent and faithful, came in several times a day with food and tea. Then there was the boy who kept peeking into the room. He was too shy to stay more than a few seconds, vanishing with a squeak the moment they made eye contact.
Eventually, Leila began to spend her time staring out the window from the chaise lounge, the treetops swaying in the breeze. She lost herself in her thoughts, dreaming of her escape through the window taunting her with its billowing curtains.
It was one such moment when the boy once again stuck his head into her room, watching her with his large, brown eyes.
Leila gave him a friendly smile. He peeked behind his back and then, to her astonishment, slipped into the room. On his tiptoes, he made his way to the chaise lounge. He stopped an arm’s length away and slowly lifted up a small fist and opened his fingers. On his palm lay a crumpled piece of paper.
“Shukran,” she said in thanks, taking the paper in her hand. She then unwrinkled it and read the short note, her heart leaping into her throat.
Hope Amir is being nice.
—Xander
Her head shot up to ask the boy about Xander, but he made a beeline for the door. Leila called for him to wait. The door clicked shut and she was alone again.
Disappointed she wouldn’t be able to send a reply, she returned her attention to the note. Xander was still here. And he found a way to communicate. Bit by bit, a plan took shape in her mind. After all, she had something Amir wanted, and he wanted it badly. It was time to take control. Her idea wasn’t foolproof, but she had nothing to lose by trying.
Determined, she jumped from her seat and picked up the breakfast plate she hadn’t yet touched. She let the ceramic drop to the floor. It shattered with a crash, sending pieces flying across the room.
Her heart racing, she frantically sifted through the shards and selected a few that could suit her purpose. Seconds after she had hidden them in her pillowcase, the door opened and the veiled woman stuck her head inside.
Leila whirled around and, with a glance toward the mess on the floor, shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, it just slipped.”
Without a word, the woman left, returning a few minutes later with a broom.
When the woman finished sweeping and was about to leave, Leila took a deep breath, praying she was doing the right thing. “Wait!”
The woman turned back to her, her head tilted slightly to the side.
“I need to speak to Amir. As soon as possible.”
The woman left without saying a word. Leila sighed, her stomach churning with the prospect of facing Amir again. She couldn’t back down. It could be her only chance. Xander would have to somehow understand her intentions. And she would have to trust him to follow through.
Chapter Twenty-One
Amir didn’t come. Days passed, and all Leila could do was read Xander’s note over and over. She studied his handwriting. Considered how much pressure he put on the pencil by analyzing the thickness of the markings. Wondered what surface he’d used to write on regarding the texture of the graphite. And, strangely, kept thinking about him. His voice, his scent, the feel of his back as he sat in front of her on the camel.
Forcing herself to find a new way to occupy her mind, she folded up the paper and put it under her pillow. The glass shards clinked together, softly, reassuringly. With a sigh, she gave the door an apprehensive glance.
Amir’s definition of “as soon as possible” was clearly different than hers. He was keeping her waiting on purpose. A reminder that he was in control of the situation. But the longer she waited, the less confident she felt about her plan. There were plenty of ways he could manipulate it to work in his favor. She would have to somehow stay one step ahead.
Finally, on the evening of the third day, Amir must have let his curiosity get the better of him. He entered the room, not bothering to knock, dressed as if he had just returned from a cross-country horse race from his polo shirt, tan breeches, and his polished black riding boots. He carried a riding crop in his hand, which Leila eyed suspiciously.
“So,” he sighed in annoyance, slapping the end of the crop in his palm. He strode into the room, settled on the chaise lounge, and crossed his legs. “What is it that’s so important you have to talk about?”
“Well,” Leila started, slipping her hand into the pillow behind her until she found one of the shards. She gingerly wrapped her fingers around it, careful not to grip it too tightly, as she collected her thoughts, not wanting to leave anything out. This could be her only chance.
“I’ve been giving things a lot of thought. Obviously, since I have nothing else to do.”
