HALA STARED AT THE OLD MAN, UNDERSTANDING EVERYTHING—AND understanding nothing at the same time. The Family was supposed to be smart, wise.
“You can’t be serious,” she said.
“I believe you’re familiar with the terms,” he answered. “It is preferred that your deaths be deemed a suicide by the authorities.”
The words hit Hala like scalding water. And the reversal of it all. She remembered the night at the Harmony Suites Business Hotel, when she’d said virtually the same thing to the other couple. The ones she’d thought were traitors.
The ones she’d been told were traitors.
“How can you do this? After all of our service? All we went through?” she said.
Jiddo was unperturbed. “You came to this country prepared to die at any time, isn’t that so?”
“For the cause!” Hala spat back. “Not for this! Not for The Family’s convenience.”
“And how exactly are those different?” he asked. “Please make the right choice. If I’m not mistaken, there are… two little ones at home? Is that correct?”
“You wouldn’t!” she said. But of course, she knew that they would.
“Hala.” Tariq was there now, and as he spoke, there was more clarity in his voice than she’d heard in days. Maybe ever. “We have to, Hala. Fahd and Aamina will be taken care of. Your parents—”
“This can’t be happening!” she said.
“I won’t warn you again,” Jiddo told them.
Like something out of a waking nightmare, she watched as Tariq reached over and took the capsules from the other man. He pressed one into her shaking palm and closed her fingers around it. Then he kissed her, unapologetically. There were tears in his eyes, but love as well. So much love.
“We’ll see each other again,” he said.
“Tariq, no!”