Page 9 of Sheltering You

Please, you must come and help us escape from Uncle’s security. We can take a train to Mama’s cousin. She will welcome us.

I know it is much to ask after everything you’ve been through. I wouldn’t if not for Rabie, but I fear Dari will corrupt my little brother as he is corrupt.

As soon as I know where we’re staying, I’ll email again.

You are our only hope.

Please, help.

Your friend always.

Basma

Jasmine reread the email twice before she slipped her phone into her pocket, her hands shaking.

Basma, the only friend she’d had in the world after Leila ran away, needed her help. How could she turn her back on her?

But what could she do?

“Jasmine?” Sophie’s voice came from a few feet away. “Everything okay?”

“Yes. Yes, thank you.”

“Your sister has another dress to show us.”

Jasmine peered past Sophie to where Leila stood on the platform, watching her with concern in her gaze. She was too far away to ask the question forming on her lips.

She wore the dress Jasmine had been certain she would like. It was satin with a pleated, off-the-shoulder bodice, a low waist, and a skirt that was neither too fitted nor too bell-shaped, just gracefully flared. It was exquisite and sophisticated and perfect for Leila, though she seemed more concerned with what had distracted Jasmine than she did with the gown.

Moving closer, Jasmine said, “You are stunning, my sister.”

Leila faced the mirrors, giving them a view of the back of the dress, which draped low, showing off her flawless cappuccino skin.

Jasmine bent and spread out the long train, then stepped back to admire the image she saw in the mirror. A splendid gown for Leila, who was about to marry into an amazing family and start a glorious life.

Tears filled Jasmine’s eyes. Happy tears, of course. Why wouldn’t she be happy for the sister she adored?

Leila and Michael were well matched. They would marry and live in the lovely house in Shadow Cove and have sweet children and grow old together.

At least this time, Jasmine wouldn’t be left too far behind. She’d live nearby…somewhere. In an apartment, she supposed. Their children would be cousins. Jasmine would babysit for Leila’s little ones. She could cook for their family, and perhaps clean. Maybe, if she was very useful and very quiet, she would be invited to family functions.

Perhaps she wouldn’t be forgotten.

“Oh, my word.” Peggy sounded almost reverent. “That is gorgeous.”

Jasmine stepped away, shaking off her melancholy and meeting her sister’s eyes in the mirror. “What do you think?”

Leila’s shoulders lifted and fell. “It is pretty.” The way her eyes sparkled, Leila knew it was more than just pretty, but she felt too shy to say so.

Summer also stood. All the women were standing now. “It’s spectacular.”

Everyone had forgotten that Jasmine had been distracted. Nobody asked why she’d walked away.

When they got back to the house, should she tell Leila about Basma’s email? If she did, Leila would tell Michael. Maybe Michael would help.

But Michael worked for the US government, and Basma’s uncle was an Iraqi diplomat who worked with the Americans. Did Michael know him? Would he feel obligated to tell him Basma’s plan to escape? Maybe not.

But maybe so.