Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
J asmine must've fallen asleep.
Embarrassed, she sat up and stretched, thankful for the clean clothes Leila had brought her from home. She'd showered and changed into a fresh dress—this one dark blue—after they arrived at the island that afternoon.
Nobody seemed to mind that Jasmine had nodded off. In fact, somebody had draped an afghan over her.
The women were seated in the beautiful living room on sofas and chairs facing the fireplace. The flames from earlier were now mere flickers and glowing coals. The room still held the scent of wood smoke that was coming to smell like home.
She'd been here the weekend before, but it felt different this time. Like a fortress, a hiding place. Even though she'd suggested to Derrick that perhaps she shouldn't come, she couldn't imagine having been left alone in Shadow Cove, without the protection of these friends who meant so much to her.
The boat ride over had been choppy, and poor Leila had sat beside her, holding her hand with such a tight grip that, even hours later, it still ached. On Leila's other side, Michael had held her other hand, whispering promises in her ear.
Leila feared water. Summer feared boats.
Jasmine feared Khalid. But here, on this island, she felt safe. As safe as she'd felt since before she'd gotten that email almost a week before.
She checked the time on her phone. Almost two o'clock in the morning? Yet, though others yawned, nobody seemed ready to go to bed.
Eliza was telling a story about her childhood, and though Jasmine had missed most of it, when she finished, the rest of the ladies smiled.
"My childhood wasn't like that," Summer said. "But this little one"—her hand rested on her growing belly—"is going to have it so much better."
"Is... he ?" Peggy threw out the question as a guess.
Summer just shrugged. "Or she."
The older woman scowled. Family rumor had it that Summer and Grant knew the baby's gender but hadn't shared it yet. Maybe they had some big surprise planned. Maybe they wanted it to be private, just between the two of them.
To have someone to share secrets with… Jasmine envied her that. She wouldn't complain, though. God had been good to her. She was here, wasn't she? And safe.
Her child, boy or girl, was going to have this kind of freedom. Jasmine would see to it, no matter the cost. Her child would know the One True God and walk with Him. Her child would know joy.
In the corner, the twenty-foot Christmas tree sparkled, seeming all the brighter because of the darkness beyond the windows that made up the entire wall. The Wrights didn't bother with curtains or shades. Their island was private and far from the mainland—and the house so high on the cliff—that they didn't worry about strangers peeking inside.
The world outside sparkled. Was it snowing?
They'd said the rain might turn to snow, but she hadn't really believed it. She'd never seen snow. She watched it fall lazily, occasionally blowing in the breeze. It was mesmerizing.
With Peggy in charge, they'd gotten most of the food prepared for the party the next day. Roger's brother, his wife, and their daughters would be here around eleven. As far as she knew, nobody else was coming, though there was enough food to feed a small Iraqi village—with plenty to spare. There would be a game that included the exchange of gifts, something called a Yankee Swap. Apparently, everyone picked a present, but someone else might steal it. It was all very confusing, but her friends had promised they'd explain what she needed to do when it was her turn. When she'd worried that she hadn't brought anything, Eliza had assured her she had taken care of it.
This family…that was exactly what they did. They took care of each other, and her. And Leila. And she felt certain that, when the time came, they would help take care of her little one. Derrick would be an uncle, like he'd said, but he wouldn't be the only one. There would be six Wright uncles and five Wright aunts and even Wright grandparents.
Almost four months before, when Jasmine had finally admitted the terrible truth to herself—that she was pregnant, that she would give birth to Khalid's child—she'd imagined a thousand futures for herself and her baby. Never could she have imagined this.
Across the room, Peggy caught Jasmine's eyes and smiled at her. She didn't say anything, didn't expect anything. Just gave her that I'm glad you're here smile.
Jasmine could trust this family. This family was nothing like the one she'd left in Iraq. She didn't have to fear Peggy and Roger. She didn't have to worry that one of the brothers was going to take advantage of her or sell her or marry her off to pay a debt. She didn't have to worry they'd decide to make her a servant or a slave. She was safe here, with these people. How she'd ever thought differently, she couldn't fathom.
Leila crossed toward her, seeming almost…worried. Why, though? On the ride from the airport to the marina that afternoon, Jasmine had told her everything that had happened since she and Derrick had left. And they'd spent the entire day together.
"Can I talk to you for a second?" Leila asked.
Jasmine draped the blanket across the back of the chair and scooted over to give her sister space. "Is something wrong?"
Settling beside her on the club chair, Leila angled toward her. "Derrick said something to me earlier, and I wanted to talk to you about it." She kept her voice low enough that nobody else could hear, not that it would matter if they did because her sister had switched to Arabic. Something she almost never did, certainly not when they were surrounded by Americans.
Jasmine's stomach churned with fear. "What is it?"
Leila took Jasmine's hands and leaned in close. "I wanted to go back for you, Jasmine."
Oh.
Derrick must've told her what Jasmine had said at the hotel.
"I would have found a way. I don't know how, but I was always thinking about you. I never forgot about you." Leila leaned her forehead against Jasmine's.
Jasmine's eyes filled.
"I prayed for you every single day." Leila's voice crackled with emotion. "Not an hour went by that you weren't on my mind. You were worthy of the risk. You have always had my love and my devotion. Always. I didn't have a way to rescue you. But I prayed every night that God would reunite us, that He would bring you to safety." She leaned away and met Jasmine's eyes. "I'm sorry you ever doubted that."
Jasmine hugged her sister, the weight of her insecurities melting away. "I shouldn't have doubted it. I should've known better—known you better. You begged me to escape with you. I was a fool for staying."
Leila backed away, holding Jasmine's shoulders. "You stayed with Mama. You were the good daughter. Our parents were the fools for not seeing that. But I see it, sister. I see how amazing you are."
Jasmine smiled at her twin. "We are as different as we are the same, and we are both created by God, and both worthy in His eyes."
Leila settled in beside her on the small chair, wiping her tears.
Jasmine's phone vibrated an email. It had to be from Basma, the only person with her address. She must be messaging to tell Jasmine that she and Rabie had made it back to her cousin's house, wherever that was. Jasmine tapped the icon and read the message.
Then, with a growing sense of dread, she sat up and read it again.
Was she dreaming?
Was this a nightmare?
One line stood out.
…confessed everything. He told him everything he learned. He gave him your phone number. If Khalid has a way to track it…
Jasmine stood suddenly, almost tripping over her sister's feet. She managed to catch herself on the arm of the chair.
"What's wrong?" Leila stood beside her. "What is it? "
"It was Rabie."
Leila's eyes widened.
The other women quieted, watching.
"What's this?" Peggy looked between the twins. "Who is?—?"
"Where's Derrick?" Jasmine asked.
"Downstairs," Peggy said. "They're playing…"
The rest of her words were lost as Jasmine swiveled and rushed to the door that led to the basement. She ran down, gripping the railing for fear she'd trip and fall and not have the chance to warn him.
The guys were standing around, talking. Visiting. Having fun. When she stumbled into the game room, they turned her way.
She searched their faces, all so similar, until she saw the man she needed.
Derrick stepped toward her. "What happened?"
"You were right. It was Rabie. His toy, the electric one. When it was gone, he used my phone, the one I had turned off. It was in the suitcase." She remembered seeing her suitcase open in the hotel room. He'd found the phone, powered it up. "He sent Dari a message."
Michael moved close. "What are you saying?"
But she couldn't tear her eyes away from Derrick.
"How do you know?" he asked.
She held her cell out to him, and he read the email.
Michael read over his shoulder.
Grant pushed past the others. "What's going on?"
Derrick handed him the cell but focused on Jasmine. In his eyes, she saw love and devotion and determination…and raw terror.
"Who is Dari?" Grant lowered the phone and peered at Jasmine. "Who is this…Qasim? "
All the men were facing her now. Daniel, Sam, Roger, and Jeremy looked as confused as they were worried.
Grant looked fierce.
Michael and Bryan were quiet, giving her the chance to tell the story.
This wasn't how she wanted to do this, but it didn't matter now. Nothing mattered. She'd put these people in danger, these people who'd protected her and given her a home.
Derrick stepped to her side and held her hand, turning to face his family.
"Khalid Qasim is my husband." Jasmine swallowed and, so they would understand, placed her free hand on her stomach. "He is the father of my child."
"He's found her," Derrick said. "And he's coming."