Chapter 28
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He was dead.
Haris was dead.
Hena swayed as she looked down at his lifeless body, her mind trying to process what had just happened. The cabin door swung open again. Khala, pushing a wheelchair, rushed inside. Hena’s mother slumped into it as if she’d been holding herself together on sheer will alone.
Khala adjusted her mother’s oxygen, then rushed to hug Hena, crushing her against her soft frame.
“Beta, are you all right?” Her voice was thick with fear and relief.
“Wh-what are you doing here?” Hena stammered.
“You think I dragged myself out here alone?” Her mother tried to scoff, but her words came out breathless. “I’m spent. It’s your turn now.”
Hena stared numbly at Haris’s body. She would need time to unpack. To process.
But right now, there was work to do.
She took the gun from her mother and dropped it next to Haris’s still frame. Khala grabbed the matches from the cupboard.
They sprayed lighter fluid over every surface of the cabin.
“I guess if this had to happen somewhere, this is as good a place as one could ask for,” said Khala.
“The Everglades are a perfect place for murder,” her mother said. “And this place does feel particularly fitting.”
“You came here to kill him?” Hena’s eyebrows shot up.
“There was only one way this could end.” Her mother’s eyes met hers. “I brought my own gun, but using his is easier. Less messy.”
“For the record, I suggested we call the police,” Khala interjected. “This could have gone horribly wrong.”
“He was never going to suspect an old woman could be the end of him,” her mother retorted. “I was counting on that. I blame myself for not realizing who he was earlier.”
“You knew he worked for Abu?”
“Your father brought him around the house once or twice after a late night out. He took quite the shine to Haris, but the boy was always so quiet. Scared within an inch of his life. I imagined his family pushed him into it—his father lost his job and things were tight. And, well, once someone accepted work with your father, they did not get to decide when it ended.”
“He was so young, wasn’t he?” Khala asked.
“It’s why I gave him grace,” Ammi said. “From everything I’d heard, he put that time of his life behind him. Law school. A partnership. I was clearly very wrong.”
“How did you know to come here?” Hena asked her.
“When Reza told us you’d left with him, Nasir revealed everything to us. Once he mentioned a remote cabin, I knew where he’d taken you.”
“Reza.” A lump formed in Hena’s throat. “Haris got a text that said he’d been neutralized. Does that mean he’s—”
“Reza’s all right,” Ammi interjected. “A bit worse for the wear, but he’ll make it.”
Hena exhaled. He was okay. At least there was that.
“I could have taken care of Haris myself,” Hena said. “You didn’t have to get your hands dirty for me.”
“My hands are plenty dirty as is. Besides, what will they do if they pin it on me?” Her mother let out a chuckle. “I already have a death sentence, don’t I?”
My hands are plenty dirty as is.
Lighter fluid dripped from the canister. Hena looked at her mother. She needed to know. A confirmation of what she’d suspected all her life. She debated how to ask, knowing there would be no coming back from it. But it was time.
“You’ve done this before,” she said.
Her mother nodded calmly. “I have.”
“We did,” Khala added.
“It was one thing to hurt me,” Ammi said.
“He was never to lay a hand on my girls. I told him from the start—that was my line in the sand. Too bad he didn’t believe in lines.
Once I saw the look on his face, the way he hovered over you…
” Her eyes flashed with anger. “I knew it was him or us. I chose us.”
She sniffled before continuing.
“He’s out here too. Your father—or whatever’s left of him anyway.
He was so delighted when I bought him that stupid boat.
An early birthday present, I told him. Your aunt helped me put a big red bow on it and everything.
I made him his favorite breakfast. Urged him to head out onto the water.
Take a spin. Left him a bottle of his favorite whiskey, a picnic basket of his favorite snacks in the cooler.
It’s a shame when boats crash. It’s a shame when someone is too drunk and drugged to stop themselves from drowning.
It’s tragic, really. Thankfully, your father had made plenty of enemies.
One of them helped me ensure he would never be found. ”
Hena tried to process her mother’s words.
Ammi had killed twice. For her. Khala too.
“You hired Reza,” Hena said.
“I knew your attendance at this wedding was a risk,” her mother said.
“It’s why I held off for so long. Time was ticking, though.
I had to see you one last time. Lulu thought tracking you through the wedding app would be enough, but we needed you safe as possible.
Khaled’s friend worked in security, so I hired him to keep you safe. ”
“Then fired him right when we needed him.” Khala gave Ammi a reproachful look.
“He stuck around anyway, didn’t he?” Ammi said defensively. “Listen, Hena, I know you fancy the boy, but I was not thrilled with his unprofessional behavior.”
“Nonsense,” Khala said. “Reza was quite the gentleman. He went from wedding guest to bodyguard without a second thought. It was the perfect cover. Poor Khaled. He was less than thrilled about the subterfuge.”
“Well, we needed someone to look out for you,” Ammi said.
“Seems he may have taken this a bit too seriously?” Khala shot Hena a knowing look.
Hena flushed.
“I don’t like it. Let me be clear.” Ammi gave her a stern look. “Mixing business with matters of the heart.”
“Don’t be such a prude,” Khala retorted. “If they get married, they could say you arranged it!”
“Huh. I suppose you’re right,” her mother mused. “If you have a daughter, could you give her my name? I’ve heard Frida is coming back in style.”
“Ammi!”
“Fine.” She harrumphed. “Middle name, then. Children these days give no regard to their elders.”
“That was a bit rude, Hena.” Her aunt shot her a look.
Hena leveled a look at them. “Only the two of you would be matchmaking while we’re covering up a murder.”
Her mother snorted. Khala started chuckling. Suddenly, Hena was laughing too. It was laughter borne of grief mingled with incredulity. She laughed until tears streamed down her face.
When she wiped her eyes, she felt lighter. Freer.
She wheeled her mother out to the car. With the last of the lighter fluid, she doused Haris’s SUV. They’d light it right before they departed—looking up at the sky, the darkness was fading, a hint of light glowing against the horizon—and they needed to get going. Soon.
“We’ll have to plant some rumors for why Haris decided to go off grid indefinitely,” her mother said.
“It’s not a crime to not want to be found,” Khala said wryly.
“We have a long ride back. I’m sure we’ll think of something.” Her mother studied the cabin pensively. “I’m glad everything worked out. Not everyone can say their dying wish came true.”
“The wedding was a dying wish too, Ammi. You can’t overuse it.”
“My dying wish was for closure. I wasn’t a good mother. I know that. There was so much I couldn’t give you. I was too broken by the time you arrived. But I could give Lulu a big wedding like she’d always dreamed of. Now I can have this. I can leave this world knowing you are safe.”
Her words hit harder than Hena expected. It was what Lulu had said. What Khala had said.
Closure.
This was all she’d wanted.
The engine hummed. Khala helped Ammi into the back seat.
Meanwhile, Hena walked over to the cabin. Stepping inside, she paused at Haris’s lifeless body. His eyes were open—astonished even in death at what had happened.
She clocked his phone, which lay by his side. The screen was cracked. Her heart leapt. She kneeled down to pick it up, then held it in front of his face. It unlocked.
Hena slid to his texts and scanned his exchanges, hoping she could mimic him well enough. She typed and sent a message:
The hit is off. Await further instruction.
She dropped the phone by Haris’s side. Prayed it worked. Prayed she wasn’t too late. She looked at his still form. This man who was her friend. This man she had trusted so completely.
She waited to feel something. Betrayal. Anger. Grief.
Nothing came. Maybe one day it would.
For now, she made her way to the cabin door, then flung the lantern inside.
The glass shattered against the wooden floor, and the blaze was instant. It raced through the cabin, licking the walls, the floors, the evidence. Everything.
Hena torched Haris’s SUV. She hurried toward Khala’s waiting Camry and slid into the passenger seat. As they drove away, the fire burned bright, glowing against the night sky—erasing the cabin, along with every dark memory it held.