“Thank you, haji,” he said. “We won’t be long.”

“Take your time.” The old man pulled the door shut behind him, leaving them alone in the cramped back room, surrounded by battered filing cabinets, boxes of computer paper, and messy stacks of manila folders. Rania’s throat itched from dust and the faint acid stench of decaying documents. Kareem brushed down a stool and indicated for Rania to sit.

“I was surprised to hear from you,” he said. “I thought our business was complete.”

“Unfortunately, there have been some problems since we last spoke.”

“With your friend Huda?”

“She’s not my friend,” said Rania, even as an unexpected pang of wistfulness twisted beneath her ribs.

“I’m reminded of that old saying, ‘A friend knows better than an enemy how to do you harm.’” Kareem smiled coldly. “I don’t want to impose on my bookkeeper’s hospitality any longer than necessary. So please tell me, what can I do for you?”

“I need a passport for my daughter, and an exit visa.”

“You know that women can’t travel without male permission.”

Rania’s eyes narrowed.

“Your friend the cleric must have rejoiced when that law came into effect.”

“Why are we rehashing this? Later we will have the luxury to pick and choose our allies. At the moment, we must take support wherever we can find it.”

Rania swallowed down a retort.

“When the time comes, I will find a way to deal with that ridiculous regulation. First, I need a passport for my daughter.”

“Why now? The Americans are pledging to rid us of this regime, and suddenly you want to leave?”

“It’s—” Rania broke off. Even hidden in the claustrophobic backroom, with its dented cabinets and moldering papers, the words still didn’t want to leave her mouth. “It’s . . .”

“Yes?”

“It’s Uday.”

Alarm flashed in Kareem’s eyes.

“One of his clique came to my gallery to order a painting. He’s come back since. Both times, he said the president’s son wants to meet my daughter . . .” Fear squeezed Rania’s throat. “I thought I could keep Hanan safe by sending her to my mother in Basra, but now that’s impossible.”

A small brown moth fluttered from an overstuffed bookcase.

“I understand your concern. I have two daughters myself.” Kareem crossed his arms. “First, we will need four photos of Hanan, plus her birth records and citizenship papers.”

“Yes, I can do that.” Rania nodded gratefully.

“The fee for your daughter’s passport will be two thousand five hundred dollars, plus five hundred dollars for an exit permit.”

“Three thousand dollars? How can that be? You told Huda her son’s passport would cost nine hundred dollars, visa stamp included.”

“Well, Huda is useful to us. She is a mukhabarat informant and that has value in itself.”

“That’s not fair.”