“I’ve learned how precious life is,” he continued. “Losing Pat, realizing how quickly it can all slip away.”

“But we don’t … we don’t really know each other well,” she protested weakly.

“That’s what the next fifty years are for. Because I want to know all about you. I want to know where you go when you get so quiet. I want to know why you don’t trust our love …”

“But I—”

“Hush,” he said, gently placing a finger against her lips. “You don’t have to explain anything. Not until you’re ready. But I want to be with you, Jenna, while you work through whatever it is that stands between us. I don’t want to be someone who just waits …”

Like a parent comforting a child who has nightmares, Brad spoke eloquently and persuasively. But in the end, it didn’t matter. His proposal touched her heart—and broke it into a million pieces.

Because Jenna had to say no.

39. Mirages

Mirages

The little room off the main lobby of the al-Remal International Airport was clean and not uncomfortable, but there was no mistaking its function: it was a cell.

Waiting for the self-important man with the familiar name to return, Laila, like many prisoners, could hardly believe that this was happening to her.

It had started with a phone call.

David Christiansen was a new force in Laila’s life—a force and an anchor. She was beginning to believe that he was the one man, besides her father, she could rely on.

She had been running on the edge for a long time when she met David. Recovering from the shock of rape—the outrage, the self-blame, and finally the psychological numbness—had been like going through a dark tunnel, and when she came out on the other side, it was hard to take anything very seriously.

She lived one day and one night at a time. Parties and new faces carried her through to more parties and new faces. Only once did she leave her- self vulnerable, becoming infatuated with a young actor, talented, impossibly attractive, as self-centered as a shark. For six months, her world revolved around him. Then one day, she overheard him talking with some of his hangers-on. What he said about Laila made her sick with shame: what he said about Malik’s money, on the other hand, was highly complimentary. She walked out without a word.

After that, she began to drift away from the glitter-world of Hollywood, Topanga, Malibu. Not completely; she could still show up at the latest hot spot and be welcomed to the party. But that was no longer what she wanted. One day, for no reason that she could think of, she went down to the waterfront, a marina she had never visited. One boat caught her eye: schooner-rigged, maybe sixty-five feet, lines like a seabird in flight. The North Star.