Chapter Nineteen
Nineteen
I can honestly say now that one cannot underestimate the life-changing magic of eight uninterrupted hours of sleep. It turned out Azar was right. A few days off lounging at home with Gertie, and I feel better already. I’m still triple bolting my doors, but I’m only checking them a few times each night instead of compulsively every hour.
I felt so much better that, after weeks, I finally laced up my sneakers and went for a jog this morning. No AirPods yet—baby steps on the road to less paranoia—but running down my tree-lined sidewalks, past the pizzeria and the toddler playground, swerving around mothers with strollers and ambling window shoppers, it was the first time in a long time I felt normal.
I’ve just finished showering and blow-drying my hair when my phone buzzes on the bathroom counter. An alarm reminding me to get ready for the wedding. Not that I needed it. The downtime was good—necessary—but there’s only so much downtime a type A person can put up with before they start considering how to dust the back of the refrigerator.
I slip on my dress. A floor-length chiffon that cinches at the waist. I slip off my usual silver bracelets, opting for a tennis bracelet and matching diamond earrings. Pulling up the address, I see it’s a barn wedding just over an hour outside of Atlanta. I forward the information on to Azar. He’ll join me after he gets off work. I press send as a phone call comes through. It’s Khala. Again. I hit decline. Again.
Please, beta, she texts. I just want to hear your voice.
I’m fine, I reply. I love you. I need time.
The rational part of me knows it’s unfair to be distant. Having to talk to me about the past, about my mother’s murder, must have dredged up painful memories for her. I’m sure she’s blamed herself all these years for what happened. I don’t. She loved my mother—I know this without any doubt in my mind. She didn’t mean to put her in harm’s way. No one knows they’re about to make a deadly decision—only in hindsight does everything become clear and obvious. Khala thought she was helping my mother find the perfect match. Providing her younger sister with financial security from a well-established family with a good reputation. This is how arranged marriages were done back then. People didn’t dig deeper.
Our agency rules take on new meaning for me, though. Khala’s strict edict about not advertising. Not matching those we are close to. How the smallest white lie about one’s past is a deal-breaker. Why she won’t tolerate anyone who asks about income brackets. She’d wanted to make sure what happened to my mother never happened again. The rules were her penance.
I look at the phone and hesitate. Maybe I should call her. It’s the right thing to do. After the wedding, I tell myself. I’ll call her, and we’ll have the conversation we need to have.
—
I swing by the office before I head to the wedding. Darcy’s hunched over at her desk when I open the door. She startles at the sound of the chime overhead.
“What are you doing here on a Saturday?” I ask her.
“Says the lady who’s also here.”
“I admit it, I have a problem. I appreciate you holding down the fort, but after everything you’ve been through, you should be taking it easy.”
“Work’s been exactly what the doctor ordered. A few more minutes and I’m out of here,” she assures me. “I’m heading to Samir’s folks’ in a few for dinner.”
“That sounds great. Are things any better with them?”
“Actually, yes. Maybe it’s finally hitting them now that we’ve secured our deposits that this wedding is happening. I feel like they’re starting to thaw toward me. Samir thinks so too.”
“Good! It was going to happen sooner or later.”
I grab the notebook I need from my desk. The one filled with half-legible scrawls about the potential clients I’m meeting tonight. When I’m back in the main office, Darcy’s pensively studying the computer screen.
“Uh-oh. More hate mail?” I ask.
“Not hate mail.”
“Darcy…”
“Promise you won’t freak out?”
“That only makes me freak out more.” I stride toward her and look over her shoulder.
“I’m keeping track of online chatter. Someone posted on a subreddit devoted to Lena and Tanvir. They’re talking about Avani’s wedding implosion,” Darcy says.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I read through the thread.
Banditxyz345 : Look, I know you’re all going to call me a conspiracy theorist or whatever, but I don’t think the whole “Farhan being the kidnapper” is the whole story. My dad is friends with his father, and I heard Farhan was using Piyar to get matched up himself. Did Nura set up Lena and Farhan first, before she met Tanvir?
Starlight4U : Avani Patel is my cousin. My aunt shelled out serious cash for the Piyar agency to match her daughter up, and the wedding blew up the night before. Turned out the guy the agency said was all vetted and perfect was actually a criminal! My mom was going to introduce me to Nura that night. I dodged a bullet.
There it is: My worst fears brought to life on a website.
“Don’t panic,” Darcy says quickly. She points to the screen. “It’s not all bad. These people stuck up for us.”
JinMarDo7658 : This agency’s been around for decades. You’re talking about two weddings that went south out of hundreds that went off without a hitch. They’re not God.
KnightlyRu : Lena said this guy was obsessed with her since college, but sure, keep reaching.
“It’s only this one post,” Darcy says into the silence. “It’s been up for three days and it’s barely gotten any traction.”
For now. It’s only a matter of time before others connect the dots. Like Logan. He must have come across this thread. He’s getting closer and closer to a story that will sink my agency into the ground. Farhan had been dead set on destroying my reputation; it looks like his work continues beyond the grave.
“I know it’s impossible not to worry,” says Darcy. “But try to put it out of your mind as much as you can. I’ll get the PR team in the loop before I head out for dinner. Nothing else we can do right now. Go to the wedding, have fun. Send Azar my love.”
“How are you so amazing?” I ask her.
“It’s why you pay me the big bucks.” She winks.
“No, it’s why you’re my friend.” I give her a hug.