She extended her arm and swept Huda out to the garden, so swift there was no time for her to object. She put her hand on Huda’s back and steered her away from the foreigners on the grass.

“How is your family?” She directed Huda toward an overgrown citrus grove at the rear of the yard. “Your husband and son, are they well?”

“Yes, both are well. Khalid is almost fourteen now,” Huda replied. “And your daughter, Hanan? How is she?”

They exchanged ritual greetings, using the time to size each other up among the orange trees. The past pressed against Rania’s chest. Did Huda feel it too?

“So what brings you here?” Rania struggled to keep tremors from her voice. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“No, not at all,” said Huda. “I’m here with Ally. She’s my boss’s wife. I work at the Australian embassy now. I’m a secretary.”

“I did hear of this, from my mother. You’ve done very well. You should be congratulated.” Rania glanced over her shoulder. The diplomats had their backs to them, blissfully unaware of the ghosts stalking the orange trees. She lowered her voice. “Forgive me for asking, but do you often socialize with foreigners outside the office?”

“I told you, she’s my boss’s wife.” Huda frowned. “She asked me to bring her here.”

“I see.” Rania rubbed at the scar on her thumb. “It is quite likely that your car’s number plate has been taken down. You may be followed home and interviewed.”

Huda raised her chin. “Every worker at the embassy is interviewed from time to time. I can explain it to them.”

“Explain? To them?”

“You associate with foreigners,” said Huda. “Plenty of them. Are you never questioned?”

“But I am—” Rania stopped. “Our situation is very different.”

“I’m not a poor village girl anymore.” Huda stared at her. “I work at the embassy. I am simply fulfilling my work duties.”

Behind them, the foreigners bayed with sudden laughter.

“You may be a secretary,” whispered Rania, “but to them, that means nothing.”

Huda drew herself up to her full height. She was still two heads shorter than Rania.

“I am nothing?” she hissed.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Perhaps you think—”

“Here you two are.” Ally materialized at the edge of the citrus grove. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Not at all,” said Rania hurriedly. She shot a wary glance at Huda. “It’s been a lovely surprise to see my friend here, after so many years. But forgive me, I better check in with my other guests.”

As Rania hurried away, she wondered how long Ally had been standing there. She probably didn’t know enough Arabic to have understood her conversation with Huda, but even a dead man could feel the tension in the air. And the regret, thicker than the scent of orange blossom.

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 7