I steadied myself, lifted my dress, and lowered my panties. They were white with blue lace trim. I bent over the desk slowly, over the glass cube paperweight and bank card, which I could see now had his name. He pushed my legs apart. I curled my toes inside my shoes, my fingers around the paperweight in one palm, and my nails into the flesh of the other. He pushed himself inside me. I clenched my teeth, dug my nails deeper into my skin, and watched the ripples in the glass of tea as he panted behind me. “You fucking ungrateful Palestinians. Did you think that was it? That Saddam was going to rule Kuwait? You thought you could betray us like that? Here’s your reminder, bitch. This is what Palestinians are good for. Cheap labor and cheap whores. We buy and sell people like you here.”

I loosened my fists, left one palm on the paperweight and grabbed the bank card with the other, memorized the PIN code printed in small numerals, and stuffed the card into my brassiere.

“This is what you get now, whore.”

I repeated the number in my head over and over, until he discharged himself inside me. I pulled up my white underpants with the blue lace trim. Pulled down my dress. Straightened myself and waited, plotting my revenge.

He buzzed his assistant. “Bring Madam Yaqoot’s file.

“Sit,” he told me. I sat, feeling his semen slip out of me. “And drink some of that tea,” he added. I picked up the glass, sipped the tea, repeating the PIN code to myself: 3254, 3254, 3254.

A knock on the door was followed by a young woman with a file. I avoided looking at her. She waited while he opened the file, then handed it back to her. She gave me a few forms from the folder to sign. I handed her my ID, and she returned with the balance of my bank account. It wasn’t the restored value, as promised by the government, but I didn’t press for it, especially since Abu Moathe’s bank card was snuggled between my tits.

I thanked Abu Moathe as if he had not just raped me. He told me I was welcome as if he had not just raped me.

Walking into the crowd still waiting outside, I felt more semen trickle down my inner thighs and I imagined withdrawing all his fucking money from his fucking bank account with that fucking bank card tucked in my breasts. 3254, 3254.