Page 70 of Sheltering You

That was not the right question. Frustration hummed inside Jasmine. Where was Basma? Why didn’t Derrick ask that?

“Claims he’s not going to search for them,” Michael said. “He seemed sorry that he hadn’t taken her seriously when she begged him not to make her and Rabie go live with Dari, and he’d ignored her. He was justifying himself, though, you know how you do, right? ‘I didn’t have any choice. He is their brother.’ He actually told me to tell them⁠—”

“Where is Basma?” Jasmine gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth. She should not have interrupted. She looked at Derrick, expecting him to scowl at her or demand she be quiet.

He reached toward her, and she couldn’t help the wince. But he squeezed her wrist, the slightest touch, reassuring her with his kindness. “You’re right. I got distracted.”

“Sorry, sis,” Michael said. “I should have led with that.” Michael also didn’t sound angry. And he called her sis, which he did sometimes, as if she were already his sister. And to him, that didn’t mean control. It meant devotion and brotherly love.

She should know these men better than to expect anger from them. Even so, their kindness sent tingles to her eyes.

“Ghazi said Basma escaped, but somehow, in the melee, she dropped her phone.” Michael related the information calmly. “The security guys grabbed it. They thought Ghazi could hack into it to figure out where she was going.”

“Did he hack it? Maybe this is why Basma hasn’t emailed. Maybe she fears he’ll find her emails to me.”

“Maybe,” Michael said. “But he’s not looking for her, or at least he claims he’s not. In fact, he gave me the phone.”

“He is letting her go?” Jasmine asked. “You really believe this?”

“That’s what he said.”

“But we were followed.” Derrick turned Jasmine’s way. “I’m not crazy. We were followed, right?”

“I think. I saw one SUV.”

“You were.” Michael sounded confident. “Checked the CCTV footage, and you were followed by three SUVs. I’m impressed you lost them.”

“If they weren’t Ghazi’s men,” Derrick asked, “then who were they?”

“Our guess is that Dariush suspected Basma might try to run and assigned them to watch her. The question is why. Why did he care that much if they got away?”

“They are his family.” Derrick was nodding his agreement. To the phone, she said, “You do not think this is enough?”

“He wasn’t close to them, right?” Michael asked. “And he hasn’t lived in Iraq for years. As far as I can tell, he barely knows them. I’m not saying he doesn’t care. But why does he care enough to move back to Baghdad to take responsibility for them? And to hire guards to ensure they don’t get away? Do you think he loves them?”

“I do not think he is capable,” she said. “Control, perhaps?”

“Maybe.”

“I don’t know.” Derrick’s lips squished together the way that told her he was considering something. “Not that I know anything about him, but wouldn’t a guy like that have higher aspirations than to control his siblings? What’s in it for him?”

“Exactly.” Michael sounded impressed. “That’s exactly what I want to know. I can’t imagine Dariush Ghazi doing this unless there was something meaningful—something valuable—in it for him. Jasmine, how long did they live next door to you?”

“They moved in around the time when Mama got sick, but Dari didn’t live there. He is much older than Basma.”

“And you only met that one time.” It wasn’t a question, so Jasmine didn’t respond. “Did he know your father?”

“He never came for tea, and Baba barely left the house in those days. Why?”

“Because Dariush Ghazi was working with your uncle. With Hasan Mahmoud.”

“What?” Jasmine tried to put the pieces together in her mind. “That does not make sense. How did they know each other? I cannot imagine how that happened. I never heard his name mentioned. I never saw him at our house or at the compound.”

“I don’t know what to tell you.” Michael’s voice was flat. “If he is who I think he is, they definitely knew each other. Which makes me wonder if this—the thing Dari will get out of all of this—has something to do with you.”

“No. That cannot be.”

“Why not?” Michael said something else, but his words seemed to come from far away, muffled and echoing. The world was tipping and closing in.