Dressed in loose jeans and a pale yellow tunic, Ally left the safety of her bedroom. She snuck down the quiet halls, her senses heightened for lurking danger. When she descended the stairs, she moved close to the banister and gripped the rail. Another woman had fallen down the very steps she currently took, and more than one of the home’s residents would love for Ally to have the same fate. At the bottom, she stared around the dark, empty living space and approached the hallway in the back of the room.
Rays of golden light poured out from an entrance at the far end of the corridor. Alyah typically arrived before the servants. If Ally was right, she would be in there preparing for the day. She sucked in a breath and walked toward the kitchen.
Richly engraved mahogany doors, some closed and some open, lined either side. The savory scents of caramelized onions and garlic mixed with the nutty aroma of spices filled her nostrils, and the sound of vegetables chopping filled her ears. She slipped inside the open door to the kitchen.
Deep brown cabinets lined the walls above and below the white marble countertops. A table sat in the far corner. Dressed in a rose-colored salwar kameez, Alyah stood with her back to Ally, cutting vegetables. On the gas stove, a large pot sputtered with oil. Only after she scanned the room for others did Ally let out the breath she held; they were alone. She closed the door behind her and locked it. One chance was all she had. If she failed, the consequences would be deadly.
“You’re early. Peel and chop all those onions for me while I finish with the okra,” Alyah said as she worked.
From the dish drainer, Ally grabbed a cutting board and a knife. She took her supplies and the basket of onions and set up beside the woman.
Alyah paused mid-cut, staring at the onion in Ally’s hand before returning to her task. “I knew you understood Urdu.” Although her words were calm, the knife she used shook while she worked the blade over the green vegetables. “Why are you here? Why couldn’t you stay dead and let me live in peace?”
Ally worked on removing the waxy layers from the root and didn’t respond.
“When I saw you yesterday, I was thinking ‘Why is she back? She was never happy with us. She was finally free.’ Only one answer came to mind. Is money that important to you?”
Ally smiled in spite of herself. Although right about the first part, Alyah couldn’t be more wrong about the second. No amount of money would have brought her back.
“Wassim will gladly pay you whatever you want to make you disappear,” Alyah said as she worked on the okra.
The vapors of the onions burned Ally’s eyes. She rubbed the tears on her shoulder and continued to remove their skins. “Your husband tried to make me disappear last night. It didn’t work.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alyah snapped.
All four of the roots peeled, Ally grabbed one and cut it into paper-thin slices. “Your husband sent his guard to kill me last night.”
Alyah’s knife slipped, almost cutting her own finger. “Do you really think I would believe you? Tariq was a good man. Loyal.”
“Loyal enough to kill for him.” She sniffled from the sharp burn of the vapors.
Alyah laid down her knife and turned to her. “What do you want?”
She shrugged and worked the blade through the membrane of the root. “Things I can no longer have.” Ally considered her words. “I had a husband who loved me very much. Sayeed took me away from him and forced me to live in hell with you. Those were the most miserable years of my life.”
“Would you like for me to cry for your pain?”
Ally laughed and reached for another onion. “No. I know your life has been miserable too. Which is why I am here to warn you.” From the corner of her eye, she noticed the way Alyah’s hands squeezed together. “Tomorrow, Rizwan is coming but not for the reasons he claims.”
Alyah grabbed the tray of cut okra and dropped the processed vegetables into the pot on the stove. Oil spurted and popped as soon as the pieces fell inside.
“He wants to find out if you and Wassim had a sexual relationship while his son was alive,” Ally paused, waiting to see the woman’s reaction.
Alyah’s hand stilled. “What did you tell him?”
Ally cleared her throat. “The truth,” she lied. “But it is not only my word. Do you remember the guard Sayeed assigned to watch over me?”
Her nervous laugh sent a wave of guilt through Ally. “Amir is dead,” Alyah hissed. The poor woman’s hands shook as she opened each tin and scooped spoonfuls of the seasonings into an empty bowl by the stove.
“As dead as I am.” Ally said in a soft voice. She wished her words were true for Farah and Amirah’s sake. “He saw what you two were doing. Took pictures in case he would ever need proof. You can ask him about it tomorrow when he arrives.” She watched the way her shoulders stiffened. “Once Amir, Rizwan, and the doctor arrive, they will want to talk to you both and run medical tests on the child to make sure he really is Sayeed’s.”
Alyah turned to her, her eyes bright red. “Why are you doing this?”
“Like you said,” she smiled. “Money.”
The poor woman closed her lids and turned back to stir the pot on the stove.
Guilt sat heavy on her chest, but if it kept Aadam alive, the lies and the pain would be worth it. Ally walked to her side, grabbed the bowl of spices, and poured them into the vessel Alyah stirred. “But I have no ill will toward you and don’t want to see you or your child harmed in the process. Which is why I am warning you, Shariff plans to kill you, Wassim, and your son if the medical reports find the child is not Sayeed’s. And we all know what the answer will be.”
The vegetables turned a golden yellow as soon as the seasonings mixed with them. Alyah dropped the wooden spoon into the pot and busied herself with cleaning the countertops.
“I tried to talk him out of it. Asked him to kick you out, but he says his brother would want vengeance.” Ally turned the fire to low and put the lid on the pot. “He asked me not to tell you. It was supposed to be a surprise. If I were you, I would take my son and leave before the morning. If you feel Wassim is a good husband, take him with you. If not, leave him behind and know he will be dealt with.”
Someone knocked from the other side of the locked kitchen door.
“If you’re lying? What then?” Alyah whispered.
She dug her fingers into her palms at the question. “If I’m lying then you will come back and Wassim will kill me. But if I’m telling the truth, you might be a homeless widow, but you and your son will still be alive.” Ally cleared her throat. “If you decide to tell Shariff that I shared this secret with you, you will have to deal with his questions sooner than later. Oh, and if you and Wassim try to kill me in the meantime, it will only prove your guilt.” Before Alyah could respond, Ally unlocked the door. The seeds had been planted. She hoped they’d take root soon.
One of the servants stood in the hallway. She wore the brightest orange top Ally had ever seen. Ally smiled at her and left the kitchen.