“Leave me alone,” she said through gritted teeth. She backed into a main artery of the maze. “And stay the fuck away from Nasir. Do you hear me? Don’t talk to me ever again.”
He stood still. Debating. Then his eyes narrowed. He took a step forward.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “But I can’t do that.”
He lunged for her, his hand shooting out. She jumped back.
Then she ran.
Her feet slammed against the concrete as she flew down the winding path. He was behind her, close on her heels.
Branches scraped her arms as she tore through the narrow hedge openings, her billowing skirt snagging on thorns.
She raced left, feet skidding. Her bridal clothes were bulky, and Reza was fast. So fast. But she was the one who was desperate.
She veered into the next alleyway, praying it didn’t lead to a dead end. From there, a hard right. She panted. Her chest burned. The thud of her beating heart so loud it drowned out everything else.
The maze twisted and doubled back on itself. She breathed heavily. Glancing back, she’d lost him. For now. There was only luck in a maze like this, where every turn looked the same.
She heard Reza on the other side of the hedge. His steps growing closer.
She stopped suddenly. A dead end.
Hena pushed down her rising dread. If she turned to double back, he would find her. Grab her. And then what?
He would finish what he’d started.
Her heart skipped a beat. Here: a break in the hedge. Barely wider than her shoulders. She ran her hands along the spiky leaves. She could squeeze through. Maybe. Which meant she stood a chance.
Vines scraped her arms as she fought her way out. The leaves stung, their jagged edges slicing against her skin. At last, she stumbled onto the grassy lawn on the other side.
Reza’s footsteps grew louder—then stopped.
“Hena!” His voice thundered in the darkness.
He was still in the maze.
For now.
Hena broke into a run. She reached a gated fence, flung it open, and raced through the butterfly garden.
“Wait!” Reza was out. He was closing in fast. “Don’t do this!”
She raced out the other side, slamming the back gate shut and securing the latch, then kept running. Past the gardens. Through the gravel path. Into the parking lot.
She exhaled a ragged breath. Her bare feet burned. She scanned the rows of parked cars. It was only a matter of time before Reza hopped the fence or broke right through it.
What now?
Then she saw the headlights as they cut through the misty night. A silver Range Rover crossed the drawbridge and pulled in.
Haris’s car.
She sprinted to it and pounded the window. Hearing the locks click, she yanked the passenger door open.
“I—I called you,” she said, breathless.
“My signal’s crap out here,” he said. “I was going to—” He saw her face. His expression changed. “What happened?”
