Huda found Khalid on the shore of the lake, a mile or so from the derelict Hotel Habbaniyah. He had his back to her, his toes in the water, and his hands raised high above his head. He swayed slightly as the breeze washed over him. No one else was visible on the long stretch of beach. Far out on the enormous lake, the fishing fleet was reduced to a few squiggles. Huda slipped off her shoes and padded across the sand. Khalid spun about, grinning.

“Mom, finally, you’re here. Did you pack a towel for me? Where’s Mrs. Wilson and Mrs. Mansour?” He kicked at the water and sent spray flying back toward the lake. “What about Hanan? Is she going to swim?”

“Hanan’s mother has to go back to Baghdad. And Mrs. Wilson and Hanan are waiting for us in the Land Cruiser.”

“Why? We just got here. I’m not ready to go back to Baghdad.”

Huda tried to take a calming breath, but the brackish air lodged in her throat.

“We’re not going back to Baghdad,” she said.

“Good, I was worried for a moment.” He threw his arms wide and inhaled. “Because I could get used to the smell of freedom.”

“Freedom?”

“Freedom from math class, anyway.” He whooped and kicked the water again. “Bakr is going to die of envy.”

He swung toward her, face shining.

“What is it, Mom?” The joy in Khalid’s eyes flickered, then slowly disappeared. “What’s happened? How come you look so sad?”

“This is going to be a shock.” She reached for his hands. “We’re not going back to Baghdad.” A flock of water birds rose shrieking from the lake and flapped across the water. Huda took a deep breath. “We’re going to Jordan.”

Khalid blinked.

“Jordan?”

“Yes, and Hanan is coming too.”

“What about our picnic? The swimming?”

“I don’t want to scare you, but we have to leave Iraq.” Huda squeezed his hands. “Today. Now.”

Shock ballooned in Khalid’s eyes.

“Is this a joke?”

“No, my son. We’re going to stay in Jordan until it’s safe for us to return.”

Khalid pulled free of her grip.

“This is crazy. Does Dad know about this?”

“Your dad agrees that we can’t stay. It’s not safe.”

“This makes no sense. We are Iraqis. We belong here.” Khalid stamped his foot. Muddy water splashed against Huda’s shins. “Is this because you’re working for the mukhabarat? Are you having regrets? Are you running away to mend your conscience?”

“That’s not it.”

“I’m not leaving my country just because you sold out to the mukhabarat.”

“Listen carefully, my son.” Huda knew the beach was deserted, but she couldn’t stop herself from scanning the long crescent of sand. “We’re leaving because they want to put you in the fedayeen.”