Chapter 24
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The headlights of the SUV sliced through the night as they sped down the unlit back roads. Haris glanced at Hena worriedly. She bit back tears. If she started crying, she might never stop.
Reza. All this time. It was him.
The betrayal was so enormous it defied words.
She had trusted him. She had let him into her suite. Her bed.
Her heart.
That evening on the sailboat, she had said she couldn’t read him. She’d been right. All this time, he’d been in the background, waiting for the right time to strike.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Haris asked.
She did not. She wanted to pretend it never happened, but that was impossible.
“You were right,” she told him. “About Reza.”
Through halting stops and starts, she filled him in on everything he needed to know. About Nasir’s return. How Reza used her to lure him out of hiding.
“I’m not sure I’d have believed it if I hadn’t heard it with my own ears.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands.
“We’ll deal with this. We’ll figure it out,” he said. “What matters is you’re safe now.”
“What about you?” The sickening realization dawned on her. “You’re helping me, which means you’re in danger too now.”
“No one knows about my cabin,” he reassured her. “Once we get there, we’ll tell Milcheck. I know how terrifying this all is, but you’re going to get through this, I promise.”
She wanted to believe him. She did. But tension coiled beneath her skin all the same as she braced for whatever might come next.
They turned onto Alligator Alley, famous for its darkness and the stars littering the sky. Forty minutes later, his headlights shined against a dilapidated wooden fence. The SUV slowed as his tires crunched against gravel.
Stepping out of the vehicle, Hena spotted the sole cabin a few yards ahead. It was shrouded by trees. A wooden walkway crossed the swamp water leading to its door. Moonlight caught against the peeling paint.
Once inside, Haris lit the lanterns, and the place came into sharper focus.
As tired as it looked on the outside, it was cozy and warm inside.
There was a worn sofa and a beige rug across from a wood-burning stove.
A table for two sat next to a window. She caught a glimpse of a simple bedroom off to the side.
An analog clock ticked above the doorframe. Nine o’clock.
She opened the sliding door to the back deck and stepped outside. The waters around them were dark and murky. It should have made her feel wary, but instead—with the silence surrounding them, the sky so bright with stars, the moon shining down like a spotlight—she felt a welcome sense of calm.
A few moments later, Haris joined her.
“I called Milcheck,” he said.
“You have a signal out here?”
“Just enough. He told me he’s heading to the resort as we speak.”
Some of the tension in her body eased. “Good.”
“And don’t worry about Nasir. He’s safe. Reza won’t get far.”
Reza. Her chest ached thinking of him. She knew she’d have to deal with this, and soon, but for now she wanted to push it out of her mind. She had to recalibrate.
“This is a nice spot,” she said.
“I’m relieved you’re okay with it. I know it’s a bit off the beaten path.”
“It’s perfect. It feels like a reset after everything.”
“I came here all the time as a kid, but there’s something about this place that keeps me coming back. The cabin’s just always grounded me. Maybe it’s because there’s no one around for miles, and you can see the entire Milky Way.”
“It makes everything else feel small in comparison. More manageable.” She looked at the sky and back at him. “Thanks again, Haris. I don’t know what would have happened if you didn’t show up when you did.”
“Anything for you, Hena.” His gaze lingered on hers. “I’m sorry for everything you’ve gone through. Sometimes I get really angry with myself about it.”
“Angry with yourself?” She met his eyes, surprised. “Why?”
“Because I knew. I knew how Nasir was. How impulsive he could get. His taste for risk. I could have warned you before you’d gotten in so deep.
I didn’t know you were together until it was too late.
Until he called to brag about finding ‘the one.’ I didn’t want to meddle.
Looking back now, I wish I had. I wish I’d at least tried to warn you.
” He shook his head slowly. “All these years, I wish it could have been different.”
It wasn’t Haris’s fault. She had been in love with Nasir. She wouldn’t have listened even if he’d tried. Before she could say this, he spoke again, quieter now.
“I wish it could have been me.”
Her heart stopped. Did she hear him right? There was no hesitation in his eyes. He looked at her like he’d finally said something he’d been holding on to for some time.
“Haris, I had no idea…”
“That I used to be in love with you?” He gave her a self-deprecating smile.
“I was. For years actually. Probably since our kiss when we were kids, when I didn’t understand what the word even meant.
By the time I worked up the nerve to say something, Nasir had come along, and that was that.
You went to the same university, so it’s not like I stood a chance.
Which was fine. I moved on. Chloe and I had a good few years before things went to shit.
But seeing you again this week, I guess it all came rushing back. ”
His words rippled through her. Khala’s teasing echoed in her ears. Her mother’s knowing look. Maheen’s laughter about her “two suitors.”
Deep down, she had noticed something shifting between them this week. The way his fingers had brushed her skin when he’d helped her clasp the necklace. The quiet way he looked at her. But his words crashed over her: In love with me? For years?
Memories emerged of dinners in Princeton when he’d come to visit Nasir.
Their long talks on the drive home when she first moved back to Florida.
When Nasir still wanted to stay out, but Haris—like her—was ready to call it a night.
He’d make her a latte and they’d kick up their feet, talking into the early hours.
She hadn’t thought anything of it. None of this was romantic on its face.
Except she’d noticed, hadn’t she? The sidelong glances.
The way his eyes always found hers, even in the middle of a busy gathering.
All those little moments. Her mind hadn’t been able to entertain the possibility, but it had been there all along.
He brushed his fingers lightly over hers.
“You’ve had it rough for so long,” he said gently. “Nasir never did right by you, and I’ve hated seeing you go through it alone. I promise I will keep you safe, Hena.”
He rested his hand over hers. Protective.
Caring. For one brief second, she was tempted to reciprocate then and there.
To take this road. A life with Haris. Something steady.
Safe, like he said. He was someone who’d always seen her.
Who she could be herself with. Someone who’d known her forever.
Who’d always been there, waiting in the wings.
He watched her nervously.
The temptation was real and startling.
But.
Her heart sank. She couldn’t. Not now. Not with everything that had happened this week. She needed a minute to process. To take a breath.
She had to say it.
“I’m flattered, Haris.” She gently pulled her hand back. “Really, I am. But…I can’t.”
Even in the darkness, she could see how her words had landed, and the brief flash of pain passing across his face before he hid it away.
“Of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things uncomfortable.”
“Don’t be sorry. Please. You’ve done so much for me, and I’m so grateful for you. You have no idea how much I care about you.” Her voice was thick with emotion. “It’s just…things are so complicated right now. I need a minute. I don’t want to make things messier than they already are.”
He didn’t reply. She blinked hard as she watched his profile, searching his face for something—anger, regret—but he was completely unreadable.
He excused himself. When he returned, he was holding two glasses of water. He handed her one. She took it from him and studied his expression as he took a sip from his glass.
“Are we okay?” she asked, her voice small.
“Of course we are.” Haris’s expression softened, though she saw the sadness lingering too. “Honestly? I feel better now. At least I said it.”
They stood there a moment longer until Haris cleared his throat. He offered her an apologetic smile and excused himself to use the bathroom.
Finishing her water, she walked back into the cabin. She set her glass in the kitchen sink as the dull ache of guilt washed over her. He said he wasn’t hurt, but how could he not be? After all he’d done for her, she hoped she hadn’t inadvertently led him on.
She winced. A sudden headache. Her hands flew to her head. She realized with a start she hadn’t eaten all day. She slid open a kitchen drawer to her right. It was empty. Drawing open the next one, she paused.
There was a framed photo in there. Of her parents.
It was a professional picture, the type taken in a studio.
They stood before a blue backdrop. Her father in a white polo.
Her mother in a pink blouse. Brown bangs swept across her forehead.
His hands rested on her shoulders. He looked so young. They both did.
Why did Haris have this photo tucked away in the drawer?
She needed to step out of the kitchen. Wait for Haris. Ask him. But her body was ten steps ahead of her brain. She opened a cabinet door. Tried not to gag at the odor of rotten apples and moldy oranges.
Opening the next one, her mind went blank.
She couldn’t process what she was seeing. Instead of food, she was looking at a mini hardware store: There was a plastic bag filled with zip ties. An assortment of coiled rope in a wicker basket. A pack of ski masks and gloves. A variety of knives hung from a magnetic rack like a butcher’s arsenal.
But what was inside the next cabinet turned her blood cold.
Matches. Lighter fluid. Brass knuckles. A blow torch. A rusted pair of pliers—blood caked along the tips.
Her breath caught.
Nasir’s hands. His torn fingernails.
They had locked him in a trunk. They had driven him far away.
Where no one could hear his screams.
Her pulse quickened. A light glowed on the counter. Haris’s phone. She peered at the incoming message from an unknown number.
Reza has been neutralized.
Reza neutralized? Her lungs seized. What did that mean?
Another text dinged.
No clear shot of Nasir. Don’t worry. He’s got to come out sooner or later.
No.
No.
No.
A flush. The sound of running water. Haris stepped out of the bathroom.
“I was thinking…” he began. He trailed off as he saw her horrified expression. As he saw the phone she held in her hands.
“Well,” he said slowly, his voice low. “Shit.”