Page 175 of Rescuing You

Michael reached across the aisle and gripped Jasmine’s hand. “I promise, he won’t find you.” He took Leila’s hand with his free one. “I promise, I’ll keep you both safe.”

Jasmine smiled. “I believe you, Michael Wright.” She looked around as the plane taxied. “We are here, are we not? You have gotten us this far.”

Jasmine was right. Michael had gotten them this far. Not Michael, though.

God had gotten them this far. He wouldn’t forsake them now.

The jet raced down the runway and lifted off.

Leaving all the terror behind.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

A week later, Leila put the finishing touches on her makeup with shaking hands.

She wasn’t ready.

But, as Michael had suggested at dinner the night before, maybe she would never feel ready. Maybe she had to do it even when the idea terrified her.

He’d seemed to find her fear amusing.

“You escaped Iraq when you were eighteen years old, all by yourself. You made it across Turkey and into Europe with nobody to help and nothing to count on except your own wits. You faced refugee camps, college, career—all alone. And when you were taken, you escaped again.”

“With you,” she said.

He shook his head as if that part were irrelevant. “But you’re afraid of this?”

Not just afraid.

Terrified.

“What if they don’t like me?”

Her question had only made him smile more broadly. He’d leaned over a plate of seafood he’d brought with him and kissed her cheek. “I promise, they’re going to love you.”

Maybe.

She hoped he was right.

Now, she stowed her makeup in the drawer in Michael’s guest bathroom and looked into the bedroom she shared with her sister.

Jasmine was lying on the bed nearest the window.

“You all right?”

Her twin sat up and swung her feet to the floor. “Are you?”

“Of course.”

Jasmine wasn’t fooled by Leila’s overly bright tone.

They were speaking English. By an unspoken agreement, neither had lapsed into Arabic since they’d touched down in Maine.

Jasmine looked better. Not just better but healthy. She had color in her cheeks and had even, if Leila wasn’t mistaken, put on a couple of pounds since her visit to Michael’s father the day after they’d arrived from Greece.

Dr. Wright—Roger, he’d insisted they call him—had prescribed rest and small meals and a supplement.

Jasmine had taken his advice to heart, and what a difference. Fortunately, she was early enough in the pregnancy that Roger didn’t think the baby had been harmed by lack of nutrients. Apparently, the nausea had only been bad for a couple of weeks before Jasmine discovered Leila at the compound. The activity and stress of escaping Iraq had worsened it.