Amira reached out, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. ‘‘It was my fault, Brother, not yours. I was here, and you were not. I was the one who saw that she wasn’t well. I should have watched over her more carefully. I should have spoken to Father sooner. If she’d seen one of those specialists, one of those doctors who heal the mind … If we’d—”

“If, maybe, perhaps … what does it matter now? I failed her. It’s a son’s duty to protect his mother, and I failed.” Staring into the velvet darkness of the garden, he drifted into a misery too private to share.

Amira wanted to comfort her brother, but how could she when she was without comfort herself ? At least Malik had been able to say good-bye to their mother, for it was he who had led the procession of men who buried her. It was he who uncovered Jihan’s face before her body was laid to rest; it was he who would cherish that last precious glimpse of the woman who had given them life. Jihan Badir had loved both her children, Amira knew that, but to the world, she was first and foremost Um Malik.

Amira sighed heavily.

As if he heard what was in her heart, Malik squeezed her hand. “I marked the place,” he said softly. “I marked Mother’s grave with a stone … so you would know it.”

Amira was touched, yet also faintly shocked by her brother’s gesture. The grave of a good Muslim was always unmarked. “What a strange thing to do. What kind of stone?”

“Just a rock I picked up on the beach at Saint-Tropez.” He shrugged. “I’m an idiot, you know. When I saw it in the water, I thought for just a heartbeat that it was a ruby. It was that red. I picked it up and saw that it was just a stone, but still, it was pretty. When it dried, of course, it was nothing, but, by then, I had decided it was lucky. So I kept it.”

“You left it there for luck … for Mama?” Amira found this paganistic idea disconcerting.

“I don’t know. Maybe. Mama didn’t have the luck she deserved. Who knows? Anyway, as long as it’s there, you’ll know where she is. Maybe then, you’ll forgive me for being a man,” he said with a gentle smile.

Startled by his half-serious observation, Amira protested, “But there’s nothing to forgive, not with you.” She flushed with guilt, remembering just how recently she’d resented Malik for having privileges denied to her. “Any- way, it isn’t you I get angry with. It’s just the way things are.”

Malik nodded gravely, as if her thoughts and feelings were as important as his.

“So now you’re without your lucky piece.”