It was almost as if he had died. Jenna knew that she could never go to al-Remal, never. The other women, sensing her torment, tried to console her, but the pain was too deep.

Even the promise of freedom barely lifted her spirits.

“I believe we’ll have bail fixed for you by Monday or Tuesday,” Boyle told her with gruff satisfaction. “Ms. Edmondson has agreed to file an amicus brief with our appeal of the bail hearing. She’s going to tell the court that her office intends to drop the charge of second-degree homicide. She’s willing to reduce the charge to involuntary manslaughter. If you agree to plead guilty, she’ll recommend a sentence of time served, probation, and a couple of hundred hours of community service—free counseling or something of that sort. I recommend that you consider the offer very seriously. On the other hand, I happen to believe that you’re innocent of any crime and that I can prove it in court. But it’s a brutal process, and an expensive one. The decision is yours to make.”

“I’ll plead guilty,” said Jenna. “I killed him. I didn’t have to.” “Think about it for a day or two.”

“No. I’m sure. Tell her today.”

Boyle nodded and closed his briefcase. “You’ll be out of here by this time Tuesday,” he said.

The next few days were longer than all the others that had gone before. Jenna couldn’t drive the past from her mind, couldn’t separate it from the present. The run from Tabriz. Philippe dead. Years of hiding, lying, fear. All of it to keep her son, to protect him. And now she had lost him anyway, lost him to the place from which she had risked her life to take him.

Saturday. Visiting hours. A guard called Jenna’s name. The visitor would be Brad. She almost didn’t want to see him. He would be bubbling about her release and his plans for going away together, and she had no heart for it.

But the person in the visiting room was Laila.

“Hello, Aunt Jenna. I … I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

“Please, there’s nothing to be sorry about. My God, it’s so good to see you! “I got to thinking … about my mother, you know—my real mother— and what you did for her. And for me. I wouldn’t even be here without you. I had to come. Not that there’s any comparison, of course. With what you did, I mean.” “I know it was hard for you to come here, Laila. And you did. That’s all that matters. But Laila—wait. I thought you were supposed to be in France.” “I was going there. But I went somewhere else, Aunt Jenna. I went to see Karim.”

“You did?” Jenna felt a surge of wild hope. “What happened? What did he say?”

Laila shook her head. “I can’t tell you what you’d like to hear. He’s gone. There’s nothing you could have done to hold him. You probably know that, anyway. But maybe it’s not quite as bad as it seems.”