“Yes, of course. I am sorry for this happening to you.”

“I’m not.” Carla stood to leave. “Just proves you can’t really trust men.” She arched a painted eyebrow meaningfully in the direction of the wedding portrait. “Thanks for the tea.” Her dark eyes glittered and Siham felt nauseous.

Later that night, when Nader was snoring softly, Siham rummaged through her wooden storage chest until she found what she wanted. She crept downstairs to the living room and taped a small, blue bead, painted with the Eye, to the back of the portrait. She also put a small one in the nursery, next to the door, above the shelf where the Barbie army sat patiently in line, waiting for a child’s hands to animate them. She would have to find another, a larger one, to replace the one above her bed. How could she have left that precious space unprotected for so long? She climbed back into the bed, shivering.

She had seen the Evil Eye itself today, sipping tea on her sofa.

It was not enough. The Eye worked its evil the very next day, assuming the shape, not of a black-haired, meddlesome spinster, but of a tall, slim blonde woman. Powder-blue suit, big shoulder pads, collarless jacket with a scalloped neck. Siham didn’t understand why she focused on this detail, but she did. Maybe she’d known already, from the moment she heard Mrs. Donato’s voice calling her down, she’d known it would be this woman with hard, rounded calves and pale brows. Sitting calmly in a chair in the flower shop, looking like Attorney Barbie.

“Hi,” she said, standing up. She was tall, too, which made Siham feel even smaller. “Are you Nader’s wife?”

“Yes. My name is Siham al-Jundi.” Thank God she’d at least had the foresight to put on lipstick and pull a comb through her hair. She suddenly felt that it mattered. “Can I help you?”

“I need to get in touch with Nader, to collect some money he owes me. I’ve tried to reach him several times, but it seems like he’s avoiding me and I can’t wait any longer.”

“Money? For what?”

“Well, that’s really between Nader and myself,” replied Attorney Barbie, her voice brusque and dismissive. “When do you expect him home?”

“Maybe in one hour.” Siham was acutely aware of Carla’s glittering, inquisitive eyes staring at them from behind the counter. She felt even more minuscule and tiny next to this living doll, this American dream.

“I will return then. Please tell him to expect me.” She slung her purse over her shoulder and headed for the door.

“What shall I tell him your name is?” called Siham after her.

With a weary sigh, as if it hurt to speak, she said, “Just tell him that his first wife came by to see him.”

Siham refused to allow Nader to bring Homewrecker Barbie upstairs to the apartment. “Talk with her down there,” she said when Mrs. Donato’s voice summoned him. Nader squeezed her hand apologetically and descended to the flower shop.