18

  Andrea's room was pleasant, with cream-colored walls and a view that looked over the small man-made lake by the hospital. She had it to herself, and there were comfortable chairs for her visitors as well as a small cot where Laura and her parents had been taking turns sleeping.

  Despite all the comforts that Ziad's money had provided, and no matter how grateful Laura was for them, there was no escaping the fact that it was an intensive care unit. The respirator that was helping her sister breathe kept up a constant soft sighing sound, and the array that monitored her vitals produced a continuous quiet beep. At any moment, one of those signs could falter, bringing in a team of doctors and nurses to try to help the young girl lying in the hospital bed—and it still might not be enough.

  Laura pushed the thought from her mind, instead concentrating on the text that persisted in swimming in front of her teary eyes. Her eyes burned. Her body ached with fatigue, and she couldn't sleep at night because she woke up from dark nightmares, feeling lonelier than she had ever felt before. She was ashamed that though some of her nightmares were about Andrea, others were about the way she had left Yeni.

  In her dreams, she wandered through a dark maze and nearly collapsed with relief when she realized she had come to the gates of the palace. She could see Ziad, Jamila, and Hasan beyond the gates, and with a happy cry, she would run to meet them, only to find the door barred. She could never join them again, and sometimes the dreams would just go on, her crying for them, and them unwilling or unable to hear her.

  Pride and Prejudice had been one of her favorite books ever since she’d first read it. She loved the tale of Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy, how they overcame their misunderstanding to realize their love. She had started reading it to Andrea the night she returned to New Jersey, going straight from the airport to the hospital. She'd picked up the book on the way, but Andrea was already too out of it to respond very much.

  She kept reading, because otherwise she would obsess over every flicker of Andrea's eyelids, every twitch of her fingers. The doctors thought she could likely hear and understand what was going on around her, and so Laura read.

  She had just gotten to Darcy's disastrous first proposal when the door opened and Emily walked in, her backpack thrown over her shoulder, her sunglasses pushed back on her head.

  Emily looked a lot like Laura, but Laura privately never thought she would match her younger sister in confidence or verve. Emily wore her jeans and T-shirt like a fashion model, and even though she cut her own hair, it came off as impressively edgy rather than amateurish.

  Now Emily strode in as if she owned the place, and with a flourish she snatched the book from Laura's hand.

  “Hey!”

  “No,” Emily said sternly, as if Laura were a little kid with a cookie she shouldn't have had. “No. No more dull, old-timey British romance,” she said.

  “It's a Regency, and I was reading it to Andrea!” Laura said, forgetting to keep her voice down, and Emily grinned.

  “Correction: you were reading it to Andrea. Now you are going to stop reading it to Andrea, and you are going to tell Andrea and Emily both about your sexy foreign husband.”

  Laura stared at Emily in dismay, an unwanted blush coming up on her cheeks.

  “What in the world are you talking about?” she sputtered, but Emily's grin only got wider.

  “Come on. You've been holding out on us on the family calls, and we can tell. Andrea's wanted to know what's really been going on in Yeni since that time Mr. Dark, Rich, and Handsome showed up on the family Facetime, and honestly I want to know too.”

  “She's on a respirator,” Laura hissed desperately, and Emily shrugged.

  “She's in the ICU, but that doesn't change the fact that we're all Stone girls and we live for gossip. Remember, the doctor said that the whole point of reading to her in the first place was to keep her interested and engaged. What's going to keep her engaged? A story about dull people living dull lives in the English countryside or hearing about how her sister is living an exciting, jet-setting life on the other side of the planet?”

  Laura glared.

  “You are being a brat,” she said, and Emily shrugged.

  “Did you think we both stopped being your bratty little sisters when you moved away? Andrea was stalking the gossip magazines for news about how you were doing from the moment you landed in Yeni, but she doesn't read Arabic. Come on. Story time.”

  Laura sighed, gathering her thoughts.

  This is the worst time in the world to start telling them the truth about the last things Ziad and I said to each other.

  If she thought about that night too long, she knew she would only start crying. What did it all mean, that he had said what he said and still sent the royal jet for her travel? That Andrea was receiving care from some of the best doctors in the world, let alone the country?

  She had told her family that she was on an indefinite break from work, and they had accepted it, but apparently Emily and maybe even Andrea were eager for more.

  “Well…he's funnier than you would think,” she said slowly. “I mean, he looks so serious in public photos, and honestly he is, but sometimes, he just gets this look in his eyes, and I know he has come up with something that is utterly hilarious about the situation. And…I'm the one who gets to know what that is later. I'm the one he tells it to…”

  Once she started talking, it was hard to stop. Every story spun off another one, and it ached to realize how many of them there were, where Ziad was kind or sweet or fun. Despite Emily's begging, she steered them away from the ones that might be called “hot.” There were just some things she didn't even want to share with her sisters, after all, but those came to mind as well, making her blush a little.

  Is that time of our lives over?

  Her heart hurt at the idea, and instead she focused on Emily, who was chattering to Andrea excitedly, telling her about how when she got better, they were all going to go to Yeni and meet this hot husband their cruel big sister was persisting in hiding from them, how it was going to be so much fun, so she had better wake up soon.

  There was nothing false or forced about Emily's enthusiasm, and Laura's heart swelled with admiration for her younger sister. They were different sides of the same coin, and while some people might need Laura's calm care, others likely needed Emily's cheer just as much.

  She stood up and came around the bed to hug Emily.

  “Hey, don't be so mushy, I have a reputation to maintain,” Emily said, and Laura started to laugh.

  There was a shy rap at the door, and then it opened to reveal Jake, her younger brother. He stood with his normal diffidence, eyes on the floor and hands held behind his back, and Laura smiled.

  “Hi, honey. Did Mom and Dad bring you for a visit?”

  “Yeah,” he said softly. “They're parking.”

  “Ooof, glad you don't have to be with them rolling through the parking structure,” Laura said. “Emily—”

  “Yeah, yeah, me and Jake can hold down the fort. You go stretch your legs and get some air, and we'll just keep gossiping about you and your hot new husband.”

  “Gossip?” asked Jake, and Emily nodded gleefully.

  “Come sit down, and I’ll tell you all about it, Jakie.”

  Rolling her eyes, Laura closed the door gently behind her. As frustrating as her family could be, she had missed this, and being with them felt like being wrapped in an enormous blanket, shelter from the storm. Despite everything, it was good to be home.

  But…it doesn't feel right, does it?

  The light was fading fast, but she found herself walking towards the gardens by the hospital. It was a small and sterile place, full of flowers and shrubs that had been chosen without much care, but something about them reminded her of the great gardens of the palace in Yeni.

  She found the bench where she normally sat to eat her quiet and lonely lunches from the cafeteria, and she took deep breaths of the cool air, trying to calm herself. It was fine. It would all be fine. Andrea would recover. She would return to Yeni to be with—

  With my family, she realized, her heart aching. Somehow, without her noticing, Ziad's family had all become hers. She had always felt more like a sister than a friend to Sarah, but somehow Imran and Fahim had become her brothers, Maryam almost like another parent. Of course she knew that she would become attached to Jamila and Hasan, but this was more than the care she normally felt for the children she’d nannied for in the past. They were hers.

  And Ziad was as well.

  Suddenly their disagreements came back to her, all the times she had pushed back against his determination to make Jamila behave like a miniature queen. She still didn't agree with the things he said, but she had never, ever doubted that they came from a place of care when it came to his daughter. Every move Ziad made was to protect his children and to give them the best future he could.

  God, does he know that I understand that? Does he know that I know how much he loves them both?

  Suddenly it hurt her that he might not know, that he might think she saw him as some kind of mad tyrant.

  A moment later, her phone was in her hand, and it was dialing. Her heart was in her mouth until the call picked up.

  “Ziad?”

  “Hello?” he asked, and she winced, realizing that in Yeni, it was four in the morning.

  “Ziad?”

  “Laura? What's the matter, why are you—”

  “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I just—”

  “Is everything all right?” His voice was sharper now, controlled but still alarmed, and she could imagine him sitting up in bed, reaching for the light. “Laura, talk to me. Tell me what the matter is. Is it Andrea?”

  “No, no, Andrea's stable. She's still out, but the doctors are hopeful. Emily and Jake are sitting with her right now. I'm in the garden.”

  Ziad let out a breath too soft to really be called a sigh, and she imagined him lying back in the bed, his head pillowed on one bent arm, the sheet pulled down to reveal his bare chest.

  “Good,” he said. “Doctor Ali, he's one of the best, and he works with a world-renowned respiratory team.”

  “He does?” Laura said, biting back her surprise that Ziad would know such a thing. It had only happened two days ago, and that meant that Ziad must be keeping up with Andrea's prognosis.

  “All right, so Andrea's fine,” Ziad said. “Why did you call?”

  Laura swallowed, because why had she called? Because she was worried that they wouldn't want her back? Because she thought there was a way to fix everything that was going on between her and Ziad in one short phone conversation?

  “I…that is…”

  “Laura? Is everything really all right?”

  “Is Jamila doing her math worksheets?”

  “What?”

  “Her math worksheets,” Laura said a little desperately. “She was having some trouble with them. I just wanted to make sure that she's taking them slow. She gets more frustrated if she goes fast, and then she makes mistakes. She does two a day, you know, so she can just split them up. Before and after lunch is a good idea I was thinking about.”

  There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Laura was aware of every mile between them.

  “That's a good idea,” Ziad admitted. “I hadn't thought of that, and she does get pretty frustrated, doesn't she? I'll try it tomorrow. I'm going to be with them all day, and we can work on spacing out the frustrating bits.”

  “That's a really good idea,” she said, and then, “You are a good father, Ziad. You care about those kids so much and—and I just hope you know that you’re a good dad.”

  “Thank you,” he said with a chuckle, and then an uneasy silence fell between them.

  Laura was just wondering if she should end the call when Ziad spoke up.

  “Actually, it's good you called. I did have a question for you, but I wasn't sure if it was appropriate to bother you while you were with your family.”

  “You should always call,” Laura said, oddly touched. “I may not answer right away, but you should always call. What is it?”

  “Hasan's favorite blanket, the one with the stars? I haven't been able to find it. I don't know where it is, and he's not devastated or crying or anything, but he does sleep better with it. Do you know where it is?”

  Laura blinked, confused. Of course she did, but Jamila and Imran knew as well. She would have sworn that Ziad knew. She started to say so, and then she bit her lip.

  “It's in the lower cupboard in his room, right next to the soft blocks. It doesn't fit with the larger blankets. That's why we put it there.”

  “Oh. That makes sense.”

  Had he asked simply to keep talking on the phone with her? The idea made her heart beat faster, but that couldn't be it, could it? She almost didn't want to get her hopes up.

  “Look, Laura,” Ziad said finally, and then the sirens started.

  The gardens were only separated from the emergency bay by a tall wall, and the sound of someone's emergency was loud and piercing. Laura winced, plugging her open ear with her free hand as she tried to listen to Ziad's words, but they were utterly lost.

  “I'm sorry,” she said when the siren finally shut off. “I'm outside near the ER—what were you saying, Ziad?”

  Another long pause.

  “That you should take care of yourself, Laura,” he said quietly. “You take care of everyone else. Don't forget to take care of yourself as well, and to let your family care for you. They want to. They love you, and they want you to be healthy and happy.”

  “Thank you,” she said. She couldn't quite shake the feeling that that was not what he had intended to say, but that was foolish, wasn't it? What else could he have had to say to her?

  I miss you. I miss you so much. I wish you were here, holding me. I wish you were here, with me. I just miss you.

  Instead, she nodded, biting her lip.

  “I should let you go,” she said at last. “I'm sorry I forgot how late it is there. I need to talk to my parents in any case. They've probably found a parking spot by now.”

  “Ah. Good. I hope they have a decent spot. Good night, Laura.”

  I miss you.

  “Good night, Ziad.”

  19

  As if in revenge for the stunning beauty of the garden party, the next day in Yeni dawned gray and cloudy, a low rumble in the air that matched Ziad's dark mood. Laura's call had awakened him from a fitful sleep that felt worse than no sleep at all, but he didn't care. It didn't matter in the least how very strange that call had been. They had spoken about nothing more than math and blankets, and yet, after he had hung up, he had gotten the best sleep he had had since…

  Well, since she had been away.

  He found himself wishing she would call again. He would sacrifice any amount of sleep if only she would call him. So often in the last week, his thumb had hovered over her name on his contacts list, and each time, he pulled away, shaking his head. He knew that he wouldn't be calling too late or too early, but at the same time, he couldn't take her away from her family. What if she was looking after her younger sister? What if Andrea had taken a turn for the worse? The idea of adding to her troubles when she was already so frazzled made him wince.

  Ziad trudged to the bathroom and showered, pulling on a light linen tunic and a pair of drawstring linen pants. It felt more than a little decadent to be slouching around in such casual garments on a Monday, but he decided he wasn't seeing anyone but Hasan and Jamila today.

  He made his way to the nursery, dismissing the night nanny they had hired in Laura's absence with a nod. She was an able young woman, bright and caring, but the children hadn't warmed to her in the last week. He supposed it made sense. She was looking after them temporarily, and they could sense that. Laura was different, but Ziad supposed that made sense. She was different from everyone else in their lives.

  He assuaged his conscience by scanning some economic reports until the kids' wake-up time, and then he looked up in surprise at Hasan's thin cry. Glancing at his watch, he noted with some wry amusement that this time it was Hasan who was on time and he was the tardy one.

  He went to scoop Hasan out of his crib, changing his diaper and dressing him, and by the time he made it out to the small kitchen area, Jamila was already there with her brush, examining her favorite picture book carefully.

  “Good morning, Daddy,” she said cheerfully. “I brought my brush for you to brush my hair after breakfast.”

  “Of course, darling,” he said, and it was a momentary balm that this morning was running the way he was used to, that it was smooth going and the children settled into their routines.

  When Hasan was set into his bouncy chair, Ziad started up the stove, glancing at Jamila over his shoulder.

  “Eggs and yogurt are all right today?”

  “Yes, please,” she said with a bright smile. “Thank you very much!”

  He smiled. “You're welcome.”

  It occurred to him as he broke the eggs into the pan how genuine Jamila sounded. It wasn't something that could be taught. There were plenty of children who had said polite things by rote to him at the garden party, clearly just repeating what their parents told them to say like parrots. Jamila, when she told him thank you, when she said please, seemed to know what the words meant, and to mean them with all her heart.

  It wasn't me that taught her that. That was all Laura.

  He plated the eggs, scrambled and dressed with garlicky yogurt sauce, and placed it in front of Jamila while he transferred Hasan into his high chair to feed him a small dish as well. The yogurt sauce seemed a little beyond Hasan for the moment, but he was thrilled with the pieces of scrambled egg at least, laughing and cooing.

  All in all, it was a morning that was going exactly the way that it was meant to be, and at the same time, it felt very wrong. Laura was missing, and Ziad could feel it in his heart, in his very bones.