Chapter 24

Zahra felt the weight of all eyes upon her. The final words of wisdom from Jack prior to her direct testimony had proven all

too true in the five-minute break before cross-examination: the witness stand was the loneliest seat in the courtroom.

Farid was with his lawyer at the table near the empty jury box, looking straight at Zahra. Jack was at the other table, close

enough to talk to her, had the judge not forbidden it. It had been relatively easy for Zahra to ignore the crowd of onlookers

while seated beside her lawyer with her back to the public gallery, but there was no escape from those probing stares on the

witness stand. Spectators were constantly exchanging whispers, cutting glances in Zahra’s direction, clearly talking about

her. Everything was on hold until Judge Carlton’s return.

Zahra checked her wristwatch. Little more than a minute had passed since Judge Carlton had announced the break. She needed

to get her nerves under control. The five-minute recess was starting to feel like five hours.

Breathe , she reminded herself.

Zahra was certain that her testimony had surprised Jack. Her answers were replaying in her mind. She wondered how Farid’s

lawyer might challenge her testimony, and she worried how she would hold up. She hadn’t mentioned the story about the white-glove

test to Jack in their prep session. She wasn’t sure why it had suddenly popped into her mind on the witness stand. She wondered

if it had come across as made up, or at least exaggerated. Zahra imagined that Farid had already slipped his lawyer a handwritten

note with a message in all caps, lies, lies, lies ! To be sure, the story was out of step with a modern Muslim marriage, though Zahra and her sister had grown up in a home where the husband did no housework and the wife never complained. The oft-debated verse 4:34 of the Quran, “righteous women are obedient,” was open to different interpretations.

Zahra checked her watch again. Three more minutes. She wanted to get up and walk around, but the judge had ordered her to

sit and wait, so she didn’t move.

Obedient.

Her mind drifted back to the testimony she’d just given, but she couldn’t hold her focus on the evidence, the hearing, or

even the last year she’d spent in Miami. She was sifting through more distant memories, her thoughts racing back in time until,

finally, she landed on the day she married Farid.

Zahra was at the mosque, alone in the bride’s room, waiting. The Nikah ceremony was less than an hour away, and not all was

right.

For Yasmin’s benefit, things had moved fast with Farid, leaving Zahra less than two weeks to plan her Sofreh Aghd, the traditional

ceremonial floor spread for a Persian wedding. The florist had delivered beautiful red roses and white orchids, but she’d

forgotten the wisteria. Zahra’s mother had stepped out to fix the problem. Ava would have been a mess if this screwup had

happened at her wedding. Zahra had bigger things to worry about.

There was a knock on the door, and the imam’s voice followed. “I would like to speak with you, Zahra.”

She let him in, and the imam closed the door.

“Sit,” he told her.

Zahra took a seat on the leather ottoman, careful not to crease her gown. The expression on the imam’s face concerned her.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“It’s about your vows,” he said. “Traditionally, there is no exchange of vows at the Nikah ceremony.”

“I understand. Farid wanted to include vows.”

“That’s fine,” said the imam. “There is no rule against them. But if the Nikah ceremony is at the mosque, they must be approved

by the imam.”

“Is there something wrong with these vows?”

“Farid’s vows are fine,” he said, and then he read from the script. ‘I, Farid, pledge, in honesty and sincerity, to be for you a faithful and helpful husband.’”

“My vow is the same,” said Zahra, “‘to be a faithful and helpful wife.’”

“That’s the problem.”

“I don’t see the problem,” said Zahra.

“As I said, vows are not required. But if they are to be exchanged in the mosque, I must grant my consent. I will grant my

consent only if the vows are in accord with Islamic law. Strictly in accord.”

“What are you proposing?”

He handed her a slip of paper, and Zahra read aloud.

“‘I, Zahra, offer you myself in marriage in accordance with the instructions of the Holy Quran and the Holy Prophet, peace

and blessing be upon him. I pledge, in honesty and with sincerity, to be for you an obedient and faithful wife.’”

She lifted her gaze from the paper and looked the imam in the eye. “‘Obedient?’ You want me to invoke the Holy Quran and the

Holy Prophet and pledge obedience?”

“If you want my consent.”

Zahra tried to be respectful. “The vows Farid and I chose are the same vows he exchanged with Ava: ‘faithful and helpful .’ Not ‘ obedient .’”

“Yes,” said the imam. “And we know how that turned out.”

“All rise!” the bailiff announced, stirring Zahra from her memories.

Judge Carlton entered through the side door and ascended to the bench. The courtroom settled into silence, and Zahra lowered

herself into her chair.

“Counsel, you may proceed with cross-examination,” the judge said.

“Thank you, Your Honor.”

Farid’s lawyer was looking straight at Zahra as she approached. Zahra tried not to show any sign of fear or intimidation,

but there was no fooling herself. It was worse than Jack had warned her. Worse than she’d ever imagined.