Huda’s mouth turned down at the corners. Ally pretended not to notice. The mosque was featured on one of her mother’s postcards, with its aquamarine minaret gleaming in the sun. Ally had wanted to see it herself, feel the same ancient carpet beneath her bare feet, and run her fingers along jeweled grid work protecting the casket of the long dead saint.

“You shouldn’t have gone there alone.” Huda folded her arms across her chest.

“I didn’t.” Ally tried to act unruffled. Above her head, a line strung with tin stars tinkled gaily. “Hatim drove me.”

“Hatim?”

“I’ve mentioned him before. He’s the driver I use if I can’t contact Abdul Amir.”

Anger flashed in Huda’s eyes.

“You promised you wouldn’t ride with strange men.”

Ally grit her teeth. What was she supposed to do? Spend her days braiding her hair? Perhaps she could crochet her very own padded cell?

“Hatim is a good person. And he helped me find the mosque a lot faster than if I’d gone there and wandered about on my own.”

“Does Mr. Tom know this? And have you forgotten that thousands of criminals are now free to roam about?”

“I don’t need Tom’s permission to leave the house.” Ally tried not to roll her eyes. “And the amnesty came with a condition, didn’t you hear? Anyone breaking the law from now on gets, you know . . .” She glanced over her shoulder, then sliced her hand like a knife across her neck. “Embassy security says crime has actually fallen.”

“So you decide to drive around with a stranger? Don’t you realize you can’t trust anyone? After all I’ve—” She broke off, red lips like a wound.

The tin stars tinkled again.

“Let’s not argue about this.” Ally tried to hide her frustration. “As it turns out, I couldn’t go into the shrine. Not even wearing a head scarf. No foreigners allowed. Not anymore.”

“If you had asked me first, I could have told you.”

Ally stared woefully at her ice cream. All she could taste was the sour tang of suspicion. What the hell is Huda doing here, anyway?

“Shouldn’t you be at work, Huda?”

Huda sighed in exasperation.

“The school called and said Khalid didn’t show up for class after lunch. His friend Bakr thought he might have gone for ice cream.”

“Oh.” Ally felt relieved and foolish at the same time. “Believe it or not, I saw a boy who looked a lot like Khalid outside the mosque.”

“Are you sure?”

“I only got a quick glimpse of them.”

“Them?”

“Khalid and the imam,” said Ally. “At least, I think it was the imam. He sort of reminded me of Santa Claus. He had chubby cheeks and a curly white beard. All he needed was a red furry turban.”

Huda pressed her hand to her mouth.

“This Santa Claus, was he tall or short?”