“Him?” Ghazi sneered. “My father’s a coward. Useless when you fear.”

Mourad remembered. Yes, when Aziz was feared dead, all Ghazi’s father had was a lie.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad that Aziz and Ghazi being illegal meant police were not an option. They would have had to explain why Heather was carrying so much cash. They would have, Ghazi knew but didn’t say, had to explain him giving her that kind of cash.

So when the knock came, Mourad said, “She must have lost her keys.” He had such a smile. He hugged Aziz and said, “She couldn’t drive home. That’s why. That’s why.”

“Her cell ran out of batteries,” Ghazi said. “No car lighter to recharge it.”

Only Aziz was not surprised to see armed men when he opened the door. They were enraged, eyes rimmed wine red, rifles ready. They had waited so long, but they had found him. While his brother and Ghazi had been talking about Heather, Aziz had stopped listening. What did her parents do when she did not come home? Who did they call? Did they walk into their orchards, past the lemon trees, into the juniper? From a distance did they realize the foundling—wrapped in broken dress—was Soumeya? Up close, as she came clear as herself, no one could have sensed her shroud was made for love of another.

They put all of them in solitary. It was for their protection. From the other inmates, who watched television, which liked the story. Terrorist cell in Boston linked to Al Qaeda. Explosives found in Everett U-Stor-It. East Boston harbored hardened militants. FBI foils plot to kill thousands. Plan targeted Boston subway.

Ghazi was on suicide watch. So was Lahouari. Kamal was in Jakarta. Dhakir boarded a plane in Montreal for Amsterdam the day before the Boston arrests, his final destination unknown. Rafik never made it to Italy. His flight went through Frankfurt, and he decided to stay. They released Mourad on bond, and he and Heather ran to Mexico. Eventually, the Khaled brothers were deported after pleading guilty to membership in a terrorist organization. Algeria wouldn’t take them. Only Sudan, in the entire world, would have them. Ghazi’s case went to trial a year after the arrests. A jury didn’t believe his story about why his fingerprints were at the U-Stor-It. He was a con man and a thief. The tapes proved he wanted to get to terror camps in Afghanistan. He got thirty-seven years.

Aziz had a good lawyer, a woman who took a liking to him. She did enough of her own investigating to have the terrorism conviction overturned. The immigration judge, though, was overworked and skeptical. He’d heard too many hard-luck stories to believe even half of this one. He just didn’t like that Aziz’s prints were found at the U-Stor-It. He ordered Aziz deported after a daylong hearing. On appeal, Aziz lost.