She had dozed but now was wide awake. What time was it? It had to be long past midnight. She curled close to Brad’s strength and warmth. She ran a finger lightly down his chest. He stirred, brushed her forehead with his lips.

“What is it, love?” he whispered. “I have to tell you something.” “Tell me.”

She told him everything.

Now and then, he interjected a question, now and then, a word of anger or astonishment. “My Christ,” he said when she had finished. “What you’ve been through, my love! What you’ve been through!”

She fought down a quick little spasm of sobs. “It’s not over. I’ve got to do something.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know what to do. What would you do?” “What difference does it make what I’d do?” “Don’t tell me that! Tell me what you’d do.”

He stroked her hair lightly, thoughtfully. “Who else knows about all this?” “Nobody. Malik knows some of it. And his daughter. Jabr, a little. You’re the only one who knows the whole story.” “What about Karim?”

“No. He doesn’t know. Not anything.”

“I don’t know what I’d do,” said Brad after a moment, “much less what you ought to do. I like to think that I’d tell him, then tell the world.” He got out of bed, went to the window, and cracked the curtain to peer out into the night. “But there are consequences to think of. Your life will change, and so will Karim’s. In the short run at least, those changes won’t be for the better. There’s no getting around that.” He closed the curtain. “I can’t decide for you, you know that. All I can do is tell you that whatever you decide, I’m with you. If you want to keep the lid on forever, I’ll help you hold it down. If you want to break it open, I’ll be beside you all the way.”

“You think I should tell, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he finally said. “For your brother, and for yourself.”

Again, that feeling of standing on a cliff. Very clearly, the thought came to her that it was now or never.

“What time is it in Boston?”

Brad squinted at his watch in the darkness. “A little after six.”

She switched on a lamp and reached for the phone. Her hands, she thought distractedly, were freezing.

Karim answered on the seventh ring, his voice fuzzy with sleep. “Mom?

Where are you?”

“Still in California.”

“It’s the middle of the night there. Is something wrong?”

“No. Well, yes. Karim, sweetheart, can you come out here? Just for a day or two?”

“Well, gee, Mom, what for?”

“I … I need to tell you something. It’s very important.” “So tell me.”

“I’d rather say it in person, not on the phone.”