“Not likely,” Malik said ruefully. “When it’s time to send Salima home, I’ll hire the best nanny money can buy for my daughter. But as for me, well, there’s no one woman in my life just now. Many more than one, to put it another way.”

Amira averted her eyes. It was one thing to know that Malik had loved Laila in that intimate way; it was quite another to imagine her brother with legions of faceless foreign women.

“Don’t worry about me, Little Sister. Life is good in France. It’s not like here. Oh, people are much alike everywhere. All the same, it’s freer there. Easier. You don’t have to worry every time you turn around whether you’re com- mitting a sin in someone’s eyes.” His mouth took a bitter little twist. “I think I’ve seen real sin. You have, too. You were there.” A long pause. “It’s a different thing to be a woman in France. Girls there can go to university, become what- ever they want. Professors. Lawyers. Doctors. Maybe … maybe you should come over sometime. If you stay here … well, look at Mother’s life.”

Amira had thought about it, daydreamed about it in a what-if sort of way. But to actually leave al-Remal … her imagination had not yet made that leap.

O

Sleep was fitful as Amira awaited the sun. When, at last, it came, she dressed quickly and slipped out of the house. If her father knew what she was doing, he would be furious. But in her desolation, Amira didn’t weigh the risk. Everyone she cared for was gone, everyone except Malik, who would soon be leaving.

Wrapping her veil tightly around her, she walked the three miles to the mosque. Eyes cast downward, she searched.

Where was it, the marker her brother had left? Perhaps someone had picked it up … perhaps the sand had covered it over during the night. Frantically, she searched, pacing forward and back. There, at last, the oxblood-colored stone Malik had described, a solitary jewel against a bed of sand.

Amira dropped to her knees, her lips moving in silent prayer. Surrounded by silence and stillness, Amira knew she was not alone. She felt her mother’s love, sensed her mother’s heart reaching out to her, from beyond the grave.

She looked to the sky—for so strong a feeling there should be a sign, a fire in the heavens. But there was only the blinding sun. She whispered good-bye, drew her veil, and began the long walk home.

11. Alone

Alone

“Wake up, laziness, wake up. Are you a queen in a palace that you sleep until noon?”

Amira rubbed her eyes and stretched, glancing at her bedside clock. “But Auntie Najla, it’s only half past eight, and I was up very late studying for my examination …”