“Maybe I’ll feel better if you stroke my head?”

It had been a long time since Khalid had asked her for this, and she’d wondered if those days were done for good. She smiled and perched on the edge of his mattress.

“Roll over.”

The boy pushed aside the stuffed Chewbacca doll he’d slept with since he was six. He claimed he no longer cared about the toy, yet he refused to throw it away. Even so, Huda suspected Chewie’s days were numbered.

“Where did you go tonight?” he murmured.

“Hush.” Huda gently scratched her son’s scalp. “Go to sleep.”

“Why? Did it involve one of those men we’re not supposed to talk about?”

“Where do you get such nonsense?” Huda frowned into the darkness. This was not the time, or place, for such a perilous conversation. “I went to see a friend, that’s all.”

“Who?”

“An old friend. I haven’t seen her in many years.”

Huda stroked Khalid’s hair. It was the exact same thickness and color as his uncle Mustafa’s. Almost every day, Huda was struck by Khalid’s growing resemblance to her dead brother. Her chest ached with equal parts love and fear. It was difficult enough lying to Ally, but how much longer could she keep the truth from her son?

“Have I met your friend before?” he whispered.

“Yes, a long time ago.” Huda kissed his cheek and levered herself off the bed. “Now, it’s time to sleep.”

Khalid grabbed her hand again. “Don’t go.”

Huda caught sight of their reflection in the mirror on the chest of drawers. Years ago, she’d hung an amulet at its apex to ward off the evil eye: the Hand of Fatima, with an eye of cobalt glass in the center of its palm. Her grandmother had given her the amulet and promised it would keep her safe. It had worked, so far, but even the Hand of Fatima could only do so much. She glanced at Khalid, and kicked off her slippers.

“Move over, then.”

She slid onto the mattress and rested her head on the edge of Khalid’s pillow.

“Who were the men that came tonight?” he whispered.

“Are your legs still cramping?”

“Who were they?”

“Khalid, be quiet and go to sleep.”

“But, Mom—”

Huda put some iron in her voice.

“Your father and I have told you before, this is none of your business.” She sighed, and her voice softened. “Another time, my son. Sleep now.”