“Come on,” he told the girl, hoping she’d cooperate so he wouldn’t have to spook her further by touching her.

Her shoulders hunched, as if she were already trying to protect herself from the atrocity she believed was coming, but she followed him.

“Enjoy her,” the prince said as they passed.

Coop wondered how many guards would jump him if he punched the son of a bitch in the teeth, but he was too well-disciplined for that kind of indulgence. Without a backward glance, he led the terrified servant from the lobby. One reproduction Super Bowl ring. That’s all this girl’s life had been worth.

They passed through the hotel’s front doors. Only as he led her around the corner toward the street where Piper was waiting in his car did he address her. “Welcome to America, Ms.Jamali.”

***

Watching their reunion made the whole ordeal worthwhile. Piper looked as happy as he’d ever seen her, and Faiza was crying. Piper moved to the backseat to be with the girl, and he slid behind the wheel. As he drove, she held Faiza’s hands and explained what had happened. Faiza could barely speak, but the joyous way she threw her arms around Piper spoke volumes.

Piper had chosen Berni Berkovitz’s condo as the safest place to stash Faiza for the night. Berni, of the brisket and divinity fudge, wore an odd combination of red tights and a man’s ragged cardigan. She flapped her arms in greeting. “This is so exciting! So thrilling!”

The Berkovitz apartment was overstuffed, overheated, and smelled vaguely of mothballs, but Coop agreed with Piper that it was safer keeping Faiza here than at the club. “I don’t know what Muslims eat,” Berni said as she drew them inside. “But I have some chocolate cake. Is that okay with your religion?”

“Oh, yes,” Faiza replied. “But I do not think I could eat. So much has happened.”

He needed to talk to Sherlock privately, and he stepped in. “Mrs.Berkovitz, why don’t you show Faiza where she can put her things while Piper and I make some plans. And I’m sure she’s going to want to call her aunt.”

Faiza’s anxiety resurfaced. “Is there more problems? I do not want to make problems for you after you have done so much for me.”

“Everything’s fine.” He gave her a reassuring smile, but the prince could realize at any time that he’d been duped, and Piper needed to make sure Faiza was on her way before that happened. “Ms.Jamali...” He dipped into the pocket of his suit coat and pulled out her passport. “I believe this is yours.”

Faiza walked toward him slowly, her eyes glued to the passport in his hand. She stopped in front of him, not grabbing it, merely touching the green cover with her fingertips.

“Go on,” he said gently. “Take it.”