But Muneer did not believe this war waged by the American president was the answer for the Saudi nation.

The government disagreed with him. He knew he’d taken a risk. He’d hoped, he’d prayed to God they would let him be and understand he wrote his words because he loved his nation. That’s how he ended the column: by saying his love for country, flag, and king was deep, that nothing could change it.

The men—there were three, maybe four of them, he couldn’t remember exactly—had Najdi accents.

“What’s your news?” one of them said, smirking at his own joke. Muneer knew immediately why they had come.

He assured them he wouldn’t resist. They didn’t need to blindfold him or bind his wrists. He took responsibility for the things he’d written.

At least this wasn’t Iraq. He didn’t fear violence. He worried no one would tell his family he’d been taken to prison.

They didn’t find out for days; Bandar didn’t show up for a week. When the guards brought Muneer out to meet him, Muneer was glad for the first time that his father was not alive to see him in prison.

Muneer wanted to hear about Lamees, the boys and Hannah, his mother, and Operation Desert Storm—in that order. Bandar had brought letters from them, but the police confiscated the pages. He brought word, too, that Hannah’s mother’s father, Fareed, was pulling strings, trying to decipher what could be done to rescue Muneer.

Did Hannah’s father resent being helped by the father of the woman who stole his daughter from him?

For more than a decade, ideas for a book about his experience have swirled in Muneer’s head like white glitter in a snow globe he once bought in the San Francisco airport while attending a journalism conference. Shake the globe and the Golden Gate Bridge was engulfed in a blizzard like it never saw in real life.

It’s this funny, interesting way of putting things that Hannah thinks will make for a good memoir. But despite the blizzard in his brain, until a few months ago he hadn’t written a word of his memories down. Hannah has spent years trying to convince him, but he says no one else would want him to talk about this injustice. He doesn’t regret speaking out against the war, but he’s never been emboldened to cross the line again. Not even after 9/11, when it became clear that most of the hijackers were Saudi. Behind closed doors, Saudis talked about what that meant. But in public? In the pages of a newspaper or online? Never.