“It’s Mustafa’s. He won’t notice it’s gone until he and Ali return from hunting ducks. I’ve learned how to do that too, you know. I can balance a spear in my palm, just like my brothers. Soon I’ll make it fly where I wish . . .” Huda trailed off, suddenly unsure if her hunting credentials would impress a student at Baghdad Ladies High School. “I’ve been studying English too, every day.”

“Shall we do this?” Rania glanced over her shoulder. “They might miss me at the farmhouse.”

Huda cut down a thick cattail with the dagger, then used it to mark a large circle in the sand.

“We have to stand inside the circle,” she said. “Or else it’ll just be an ordinary promise, not a blood oath.”

They stepped into the circle, grinning, and ran through their plan.

“Today we vow to be blood sisters,” Rania intoned. “Closer than sisters from the same womb.”

“Don’t forget about secrets,” said Huda. “We mustn’t keep secrets from each other.”

Rania paused, then pressed her hand to her heart.

“No secrets.”

“If the blood oath is broken, then the penalty is sorrow.”

“Sorrow?” Huda was unimpressed. “For how long? A day? A week? It’s got to be more than that.”

Rania raised her chin.

“Sorrow for the oath breaker,” she declared. “And for the generation that follows her.”

Huda remembered pressing the dagger to Rania’s thumb, and how the blade cut deeper than she expected. The girls grabbed each other and locked eyes.

“Sisters forever.” They held their bleeding thumbs together. “Or sorrow for us and the generation to come.”

Immune to the gravity of the moment, a trio of ducks landed with a splash at the edge of the river, waddled up the bank, and quacked bossily, as if to say, Are you finished? The girls had giggled, as Huda pulled the banana leaf package from her pocket and dabbed the rust-colored salve across Rania’s wound.

“What’s going on here?”

Rania strode down the hallway, fists clenched at her sides. Huda’s memories of magic salves gave way to the present—where blood oath had become blackmail. She shrank against the plaster wall, feeling very small.

“Look at this, Mom.” Hanan pointed to the photo of her and Khalid. “I was just showing—”

“Huda, we must go.” Rania’s gaze could have cut glass. “We can’t be late.”

“You’re going out?” said Hanan. “Can I come?”

“Another time, my darling.” Rania hustled the girl toward the staircase. “Go to your bedroom and do your homework. While I’m gone, don’t open the gate. Not for anyone, you hear me? I’ll be back in a couple of hours, once I’ve finished my . . . business with Huda.”

Hanan sighed. She glanced over her shoulder at Huda. “I hope you come again.”

Huda nodded and smiled, then turned away before her guilt spilled out her eyes.