Poor Zahra had been devastated to learn her mother was gone. For the last two nights she’d cried, and if it weren’t for Nour in the house to comfort her, Cameron would have lost his temper.
Aisha’s lips trembled. “Yes, it’s terrible what happened.”
Summoning her courage, Laine swallowed and placed her hand on Aisha’s arm, stopping her from reaching for another plate. “Aisha, I need your help.”
The woman’s gaze flew to hers.
“Cameron wants me to marry him. That’s why he killed Fatima, because?—”
Aisha shook her head and snatched up the plate. “Stop,” she whispered sharply. “Someone could hear you.”
Only two guards were on duty; she’d made sure. One was with Saif and Cameron, the other was circling the house.
Laine took the plate from Aisha’s hands, finished the job of filling it for one of the children, then set it down on the counter. “If I don’t consent to the marriage, things could get ugly. He could take Emmy from me.” She wasn’t telling Aisha anything the woman didn’t already know.
Laine simply needed an ally.
Aisha closed her eyes then opened them again. Saif seemed to be a wonderful man, and he and Aisha appeared to have an easy, intimate marriage—something Cameron wasn’t capable of.
“I need to escape with Emmy,” Laine continued. Every word she spoke led her farther and farther into a hole she couldn’t escape. But she had to take the risk. Fatima’s fate could be her own—and possibly Emmy’s.
Cameron had told her there’d be no marriage ceremony. It’d be approved by the courts on Monday—a few days away. Then, it’d be done.
She was tempted to oppose the marriage but there was no safe way to say no to Cameron.
“You know how powerful he is.” Aisha spoke low. Carefully.
Hope flourished inside Laine as she reached for the next plate, continuing to move in the hopes that Aisha would keep talking.
An oil tycoon, Cameron wasn’t just powerful—he had enough money to hide everything illegal that he did. He was cruel. Evil.
“Helping you could get Saif or me killed.”
Laine lowered her chin, despair crushing her shoulders. She needed help to get out of the country. The American embassy was in Baghdad, over five hours from Cameron’s compound near the Karun River. Without a male guardian, she couldn’t even go into town, let alone that far.
And with Emmy being Cameron’s biological daughter, the embassy might not even help Laine, married or not. Aside from all of that, Cameron had taken their passports.
Tears filled her eyes. “I understand.” Her voice wobbled, and she quickly dashed the moisture from the corners of her eyes.
Silence stretched. “If someone were to help ... what would you ask of them?”
Laine jerked her head toward Aisha. The woman kept her face and eyes downcast as she fixed another plate.
Possibilities ran through Laine’s mind. With the embassy out of the question, she and Emmy would have to go on foot. Maybe cross the border into Kuwait, but they’d have to do so illegally. They were close to the Persian Gulf. Getting across and into Kuwait City could be the answer. “A boat, perhaps.”
“You will need passports. Illegal crossing would be deadly.”
“It’s my only chance.”
Finally, Aisha met her eyes. “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll speak to Saif.”
Terror seized her muscles. “No. Oh, no. You can’t.”
The woman’s face softened. “He wouldn’t do anything to endanger you or Emmy—or anyone for that matter. But.” She lifted a slim shoulder. “I think a boat might be out of our reach.” She shook her head sadly. “I’m really not sure how I can help.”
Aisha scooped up the last two plates, ferried them to the table, then shouted for the children. The conversation was on the verge of coming to a screeching halt, her chance of escape slipping through her fingers.
“Wait,” Laine said, hustling around the island to where Aisha stood at the table. “What about a phone?”
