Honey was the first to notice Gold Dust lost by the back entrance. Honey’s ink-black hair and slanted eyes sparkled. An ebony teardrop, tattooed at the corner of her left eye, gave her a melancholy air. Sultanas who preferred their own kind were fascinated by Honey’s fleshy mouth, which curled and twisted and sucked on her own tongue as if in search of nectar.

Honey stared at Gold Dust, a vision in white, her face naked, her bold hair short, her skin as lucid as seashells. Despite the presence of the Bibi Sultana and forgetting all precautions, Honey tiptoed toward the stranger. She thrust her fingers through Gold Dust’s hair; one forefinger slid over her lips and lingered on the dimple in her chin. The blushing cheeks of this stranger told her she was a virgin. Honey decided to become her mentor, to have her before the other sultanas befriended her.

Gold Dust slapped Honey’s hand away, puzzled at her dancing lips, the curious, probing fingers, the blue-black tear that smiled or cried at the corner of her eye.

“Soon the Bibi will scream,” Honey whispered. “Don’t be afraid.”

The sultana’s touch both invaded and calmed Gold Dust. She wanted to accept her admiration, yet escape her brashness. She looked around to find her way out beyond the smoke of opium. It was too late. Pearl Hall had awakened. She was trapped.

The Bibi Sultana narrowed her hawkish eyes and demanded to know who had intruded upon the harem. Moon Face hurried to unravel the mystery. Honey circled an arm around Gold Dust, hanging on to the delicious moments of secrecy. The sultanas, smelling intrigue, shook their boredom off and chewed on sugar cubes to revive themselves.

The Bibi Sultana’s voice rumbled, “Who is this girl? Where is Narcissus?”

Behind a tall sultana, whose pale complexion loomed above the others, Gold Dust saw her mother appear.

Rebekah forced a path through the sultanas. For months, the eunuch had directed her into Pearl Hall through the main entrance, and she had never noticed the back doors where Gold Dust now stood bewildered. The tension in the air, the echo of the Bibi’s voice, the menacing storm in Moon Face’s eyes, and the audacity of Honey’s fingers alarmed Rebekah. She hoped it would not take the eunuch long to wake from his orgasmic stupor and come to her aid.

Rebekah opened her arms to her daughter. As if it were the most natural thing to say, she announced, “You have found a new home, Gold.”

The relief Gold Dust had felt at her mother’s appearance vanished.

Rebekah saw in her daughter’s eyes a glint, an icy stare, she believed had been buried with Jacob the Fatherless. She stepped back as if she had been struck.

The Bibi Sultana shifted on her dais, motioning Moon Face to stop fanning her. Nothing must distract her from the dramatic confrontation about to unravel.

Pearl Hall held its breath.