“Good one.” They both knew how their mother felt about Hena.We’ll just pretend you’re dead—verbatim the last words she’d spoken to her.
“I’m as surprised as you are.”
“Well, thanks for the invite. Work is busy, so I won’t be able to make it.” Boundaries—she was good at those now. “I wish you and Khaled all the happiness in the world. I mean that.”
“Hena—”
“Lulu, I’m in the middle of a major renovation. I can’t just drop everything last minute. Honestly, I’m offended you’d ask.”
There was a long pause on the other line. Then her sister spoke again.
“Ammi’s dying,” she said.
Hena gripped the phone tighter.I misunderstood. I must have.
“It’s lung cancer. Stage four,” Lulu explained, to fill the silence. “The doctors said we’ve run out of treatment options. It’s why we rushed the wedding.”
She knew people died all the time, but her mother couldn’t die. She was a force of nature, her presence and absence in Hena’s life equally haunting. She was also her last living parent.
Blood seeped through the napkin. Hena collected herself. Drew in a deep breath.
“I’m…I’m sorry to hear,” she finally said. “But she doesn’t want to see me.”
“She does.”
“Lulu—”
“Look, she’ll never say it to you, okay? But she’s been calling out your name in her sleep for days. When I caught her going through your baby album this morning, she admitted it. She wants to see you. She said she wants closure. Regardless of all the shit between the two of you, you’re her daughter. She loves you, Hena.”
Ammi loved no one. Least of all Hena. She remembered the night in her bridal suite. Her hands and arms adorned in henna. Ancestral gold around her neck. When she told Ammi there would be no wedding. When Ammi took everyone’s side except her own.
“I don’t think my being there is a good idea,” Hena said. “Having the ‘killer bride’ in attendance might overshadow your big day.”
“Don’t say that. Everyone knows you would never hurt Nasir. Look, if anyone so much as whispers about you, tell me. I will personally have them booted off the premises.”
Lulu fell silent for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice trembled.
“Hena, Ammi’s really sick. It’s rough. She insisted on sending me off with a proper wedding, so I’m going along with it, but it’s a lot to handle. You have to come. Please. I need you.”
Hena’s eyes welled. Just like that, she was Jell-O. Because Lulu was her baby sister. Hena had changed her diapers. Pureed her applesauce. Walked her to school for her first day of kindergarten. Watched her skip into the fluorescent-lit classroom with the alphabet rug.
She couldn’t say no to Lulu’s plea. Not when she had already let her down so much.
2
•
It’s not too late.
That’s what Hena had told herself as she booked her flight. Packed her luggage. Ordered the rideshare to the airport.
It would have been easy enough to cancel. To tell Lulu something came up. To send her regrets. She’d gotten as far as composing the message, her finger hovering over the send button. There was a reason she hadn’t been home in three years. But then she remembered the slight wobble in her sister’s voice and knew there was no other choice.
Now she was gazing out at the starless night from the back seat of an Escalade, hurtling toward a past she had vowed never to return to.
Hena traced her thumb along her bandaged index finger. Two days later, it still throbbed. She hoped the sharks she was about to see didn’t smell blood in the water.
At least it was a quick trip. She’d booked the first flight out on Sunday. And from arranging this car service to putting her up in a resort two towns over from Pembroke Pines, Lulu had been thoughtful. She understood Hena wanted to be as far from the swamplands of her family home as possible.
