“Oh, okay.” My mom looks hurt for a moment, but then she shakes it off and gives me a bright smile. “No worries, honey. We’ll see you after you catch up with your friends. I’m glad you’re distracting yourself like that. It’s for the best, really…”

My dad still looks suspicious, but there is nothing he can do. I’m an adult, and I’m not exactly asking for their permission.

As soon as breakfast is over, I give them each a kiss and a hug and walk over to the bus stop on 95th street to get on the bus going to the Chicago Ridge Mall.

Come on, take me already. Fucking take me already.

I have been wandering through the mall for hours, and to my frustration, there is still no sign of Al-Quadar. They either don’t know that I’m here, or they don’t care about me now that they have Julian.

I refuse to entertain the latter possibility because if it’s true, Julian is as good as dead.

The plan has to work. There is no other alternative. Majid simply needs more time. Time to sniff out that I’m here alone and unprotected—a convenient tool that they can use to force Julian to give them what they want.

“Nora? Holy shit, Nora, is that you?” A familiar voice yanks me out of my thoughts, and I turn around to see my friend Leah gaping at me with astonishment.

“Leah!” For a second, I forget all about the danger and rush forward to embrace the girl who had been my best friend for ages. “I had no idea you would be here!” And it’s true—despite my lie to my parents this morning, I had not expected to run into Leah like that. In hindsight, though, I probably should have, since we used to hang out at this mall nearly every weekend when we were younger.

“What are you doing here?” she asks when we get the hug out of the way. “I thought you were in Colombia!”

“I was—I mean, I am.” Now that the initial excitement is over, I’m realizing that running into Leah could be problematic. The last thing I want is for my friend to suffer because of me. “I’m just here for a brief visit,” I explain hurriedly, casting a worried look around. All seems to be normal, so I continue, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was home, but things were kind of hectic and, well, you know how it is…”

“Right, you must be busy with your new husband and stuff,” she says slowly, and I can feel the distance between us growing even though we haven’t moved an inch. We haven’t spoken since I told her about my marriage—just exchanged a few brief emails—and I see now that she still questions my sanity… that she no longer understands the person I’ve become.

I don’t blame her for that. Sometimes I don’t understand that person either.

“Leah, babe, there you are!” A man’s voice interrupts our conversation, and my heart jumps as a familiar male figure approaches Leah from behind me.