Tahera touches the Quran to each eye, then collects the rehal from the floor and makes protective space for them in the suitcase lying open at her feet. The rest of the strewn contents she stuffs haphazardly back in and closes the suitcase. She tightens the hijab around her head, picks up her handbag from beside the futon.

“Tahera, don’t go,” their mother pleads, in Urdu. “Seema, say something.”

“If she wants to go, let her go,” Seema rasps, in English. “I’m not going to stop her. You came to see Ammi. Well, now you have—”

“Are you saying I’m a bad daughter? As if you are perfect.”

“Seema, Tahera, stop—” Nafeesa wrings her hands, but both sisters ignore her.

“I know I’m not perfect,” Seema says. “But even I can see what Ammi needs now.”

“Yes, this is what Ammi needs now!” Tahera waves a contemptuous hand at Leigh. “So you and your lover are going to take care of Ammi? Seema, you’ve never taken care of anyone but yourself.”

“You don’t think we can?” Seema takes Leigh’s hand back in hers, aware that she and Leigh have never discussed this before. But Leigh doesn’t pull away.

“You people are selfish. You only think about yourselves. Did you even stop to think what effect this will have on Ammi’s health? Of course you didn’t—the same way you didn’t think about us when you ran away to pursue your selfish sinful desires.”

“Now you’re simply being hateful, Tahera,” Fiaz says.

Tahera turns on him. “At least I am trying to live honestly and quietly, and by my understanding of the Quran. I will be able to answer to our Maker, but will you and Seema?” She pauses as though expecting Seema to respond.

“Yes, you live very quietly!” Seema bites back with spite. “With your fatwas and your jihads and your suicide bombs. No wonder everyone is afraid of you, even in Irvine.”

Tahera pales, pulls her jilbab tighter. “If that’s what you believe, then why did you ask me to be your child’s guardian? Why didn’t you ask your lover? Or your best friend? Nobody who shared your liberal values was willing?”

Leigh’s hand in Seema’s goes slack. “You asked your sister to be Ishraaq’s guardian?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Tahera’s laugh is bitterly strident. “She had us witness her will just this morning. I wonder why she asked me and not you or her ex-husband. I don’t know how long your kind of relationships last. Maybe she doesn’t expect to stay with you very long. Knowing Seema, she may have already found somebody else. But who can say what Seema is really planning? It’s hard to guess—” Tahera’s face scrunches up. “Maybe she thought if she asked me, I would be happy to stay and do the cooking and cleaning and be the unpaid midwife as well. Be careful, she may only want you as a babysitter.”