Gone for only a few minutes, she reemerged and returned apologizing as she approached.  “I am sorry.  I have work to attend to.  Do you have any further questions?”

“Uh,” Mona turned to Omar with a frown.  “Yes, actually.  We had several more.”

“I’m sorry.  I wish I had more time.  You may examine the house and even take pictures if you like.  Perhaps of the bedrooms upstairs.”

“What about the children?”

“I’m sorry.  They will not be out of class for some time.”

Omar glanced back to the end of the hall and through the screen door.  “Perhaps the younger ones, then.”

“I am afraid they wouldn’t be able to tell you much.  They are very young.”

“How many houses like Rainbow does Beih Saad’s foundation support?”

“I’m sorry.  That I do not know.”

“How many do you know of?”

Rehema paused again, this time appearing uncomfortable.  “I know of only seven or eight others very far from here.  Perhaps the foundation can provide you more information if you wish to contact them.”

“But if we can just–”

“I am sorry,” the woman repeated, cutting Mona off.  “Thank you for your interest, but I really must go.  May I see you out?”

Outside, both Omar and Mona found themselves standing dumbfounded beneath a bright afternoon sun.

“What… in the world… was that?” she breathed.

“That,” replied Omar, “was a first-class brush-off.”

“But why?”

“I guess you don’t ask too many questions about Beih Saad.”

She turned back to him and lowered her voice.  “So it wasn’t just me?”

“Uh, no.  It’s a very strange way to address him.  Almost… patrician.”

“They obviously hold him in high regard.”

“Wouldn’t you?  Look at this place.  And the kids.  Something tells me there isn’t an unruly one in the group.”

“Yes.  Very obedient,” Mona said, walking back to the car.

“Not at all like what I’ve seen of other orphanages.”

“You’ve seen others?”

“I meant on TV.”

“Well, I guess we know how they keep the abuse and fighting to a minimum.”

When they reached the car, Mona abruptly halted while opening her door.  She stared up at the building.

Omar was already inside the vehicle when he noticed she was still standing outside.  Rolling down the window, he leaned across.  “You coming?”

When there was no answer, he climbed back out and peered at her over the dark, simmering roof of the car.  “Mona?”

“She said we could take pictures.”

“I don’t think they would tell us much more.”

She turned and glared at him blithely.  “How do we know?”

With that, he watched Mona close her door and begin walking back toward the front entrance.  “Mona?”

Trudging forward, she raised her phone and set it to camera mode.

Better yet, video.

Reentering the building, she was again greeted by Rehema, who’d clearly been watching them.  “Please. I told you I must work now.”