“No, sweetheart. I won’t. I promise.”
CHAPTER TEN
Lisette
Standing at the second-floor window,I watch Nomar approach a black car and pull out his phone. He’s tense, shoulders hiked up to his ears. Will he really have to go back to Afghanistan? He was shot less than a week ago. I wish I had asked for his phone number. Or given him mine.
I can still taste him on my lips. Feel his hand cupping the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair. For the first time in ten years, I let myselfwantsomeone, and now…he gets into the back seat of the car, and it pulls away from the curb. Away from me.
Sinking down onto the sofa, I dig my fingers into my temples, trying to make sense of everything that happened after he walked through my door.
My husband—the man who took me away from everything I loved and turned my life into a never-ending nightmare—is dead. My son no longer has a father, and he will be better for it.
Briefly, I wonder if I am a terrible person. If there is something wrong with me because I amhappyhe got what he deserved. But then I remember the night we escaped. How he dislocated my shoulder because his six-year-old son wanted a snack.
So many nights, I would lie awake after he forced himself on me, watch him sleep, and picture myself sneaking into the kitchen, taking a knife, and…driving it through his black heart.
But that would have been a death sentence. For me and Mateen. Trapped in the middle of that godforsaken desert, no hope of escape, of a future, I had accepted my fate. I would die after watching Faruk bleed every ounce of goodness from my son.
But now, I am free. Zaman, Ehsan, and Nasir are dead—killed in the hospital parking garage in Uzbekistan. They were the worst of Faruk’s men. The ones who would have hunted us even without their beloved Amir.
“Half of his men surrendered. The rest are dead.”
No one will come for us. Faruk will never again whip me for speaking out of turn. Never order me to fast because I was late for prayer time. Never lock me away because I accidentally exposed my ankle or wrist with another man present.
My son will grow up with a loving family. He will play with other children. Go to school. But most importantly, I will teach him that women are not possessions. He will see his mama happy.
* * *
Noele watchesas Mateen races around St. Jude’s play area, chasing another little boy who is also wearingSupermanpajamas. When she sees me, she rushes over. “What is wrong? You were crying.”
I touch my cheeks.Merde.I spent half an hour lying down with tea bags over my eyes so Mateen would not know anything was wrong. But when my son sees me, he waves, then asks his new friend if he wants to draw.
“Lisette? You were supposed to relax today. What happened?” My sister squeezes my fingers, and I draw her over to a bench on the opposite wall where we can sit.
“Nomar came to the flat. He had…news about Faruk,” I say in French.
Her grip tightens. “Do we need to worry? The guard did not say anything to me when he escorted us down here.”
Do I simply blurt out the truth? Or tell her the whole story?
With a deep breath, I lift my eyes to hers. “Faruk did many bad things.”
“That is a colossal understatement,” Noele mutters. “You have told me almost nothing, but I saw the scars on your back.”
My cheeks flush. I study the bright blue tiles that form a dotted line from the play area to the cafe at the far end of this floor. “When?”
“The first night we were here. You went into the bathroom to change clothes. Mateen was crying and I came to get you.”
“Shit. Please do not tell Maman and Papa.” Desperation lends an edge to my voice, and from the low table in the play area, Mateen looks over at me, his little brow scrunched up with concern. “Draw something forGrand-Mamannext,” I say in English, forcing a smile.
Noele stares me down. “You are stalling.”
“I was not the only one he abducted, Noele. There was a man. Six years ago. I did not know who he was or how he had come to be there. Faruk never let me speak to him. But Nomar told me he was a member of the United States Special Forces. He served with Ford’s business partner. Last night, Trevor and some of his friends went back to Afghanistan to free this man. And they killed Faruk.”
“What?” she shrieks.
Everyone within earshot turns to look at us. A little girl knocks over her tower of wooden blocks and starts to cry. A nurse glares at Noele. “Miss, please keep your voice down.”
