A Bitter Veil

by Libby Fischer Hellmann

  Forty-five

  A few days later, during the nurses’ shift change, Sister Zarifeh said goodbye to Anna. Anna frowned. Usually she said good night. It was probably just a slip of the tongue.

  “See you in the morning,” Anna replied. She finished her meal, wondering how to spend the long hours until bedtime. She was feeling stronger. She thought she was ready to leave. But with her recovery came a feeling of dread. Once they knew she was well, they would send her back to Evin. It would be smarter to pretend she was still sick.

  She thrashed around in the bed. As she had recovered, so too had her realization that the hospital bed was uncomfortable and hard. The pillow too. Finally she dozed. She was dreaming about jogging down the Midway Plaisance in Chicago when she felt a tug on her arm. She ignored it, thinking it was part of her dream. Someone wanted to jog with her, even though she’d never jogged a block in her life. Was it Nouri? There was another tug. She wanted to say, “Leave me alone. I’m trying to jog,” when she heard someone whisper her name.

  “Anna, Anna, wake up. Hurry.”

  The whisper, though soft, sounded urgent. She cracked open her eyes. The night nurse stood at her bedside. Why was she whispering her name? Anna frowned in irritation.

  The nurse leaned closer. “Anna, do you know who I am?”

  Anna opened her eyes wider and stared at the nurse. She saw the nun-like habit, the white manteau underneath. Then she focused on the nurse’s face. The light was dim, but suddenly it dawned on her. The figure at the side of her bed wasn’t the night nurse. It was Roya!

  Anna sucked in air. “How did…what is going on?”

  Roya shushed her with a finger on her lips. “We’re going to get you out of here.”

  “What time is it?”

  “It is three o’clock in the morning. Can you walk?”

  Anna ran her tongue around her lips. “I…I think so.”

  “Good. I have a uniform for you. Put it on. Quickly.”

  Anna was fully awake now. Her pulse started to race. Slowly she swung her legs to the edge of the bed and stood. She had been walking to the bathroom regularly; still, she felt shaky. Roya gripped her arm and handed her the white manteau. Together they slipped it over her head.

  “Now this.” Roya unfurled a headdress from the folds of her manteau. She helped Anna put it over her head and fasten it. Finally she handed Anna a pair of rubber-soled shoes and helped her put them on. They were too tight but Roya said, “They will have to do.”

  “How did you get these—”

  “Later,” Roya said softly. “We only have a minute. Listen carefully. I will walk out of the room but I will make sure the door stays unlocked. I will turn left down the hall. At the end of that hall I will turn right. There is a door to the outside at the far end of that corridor. You will count to twenty and then follow me. That will be the most dangerous part. Do not speak to anyone. Not a word. If someone talks to you, just nod and continue down the hall. I will wait for you outside the door behind the flowering bush. If you do not come in ten minutes, I must leave. Do you understand?”

  Anna nodded.

  “Good. We go now.”

  Without another word, Roya opened the door and edged out of the room. Anna heard the soft thud of her footsteps. Then they disappeared.

  Anna’s mouth went dry. Her hands trembled. How had Roya managed this? She longed to escape, but what if someone stopped her? What if she was recognized? Then she remembered that she was supposed to be counting to twenty. She guessed she should already be at ten. She counted out ten more beats.

  She went to the door and twisted the knob. As Roya had promised, it was unlocked. She took a breath. This would be the first time she had been out of her room since they’d brought her here. She cautiously opened the door. The nurse’s station was down the hall on the right. To the left was a series of closed doors. No one was in sight. No nurses, no doctors, no Guards. Then again, it was the middle of the night.

  Anna took a tentative step to the left. It was difficult not to run—to gallop as fast as she could down the hall, and throw herself against the exit. But that would give her away. She padded down the hall, following a blue stripe that ran down the center of the floor. She was almost afraid to breathe.

  After what seemed like an endless length of time she reached the end of the corridor and turned right. Ahead of her was another hall. At the far end, the shadow of a figure disappeared through a door. It had to be Roya, leading the way outside. To freedom.

  Anna followed her. The scent of iodine permeated the air, as well as a gummy smell that reminded her of adhesive tape. Someone behind one of the closed doors murmured. Were they chanting prayers? She tried to tread lightly but heard soft footfalls—her own—on the linoleum floor. The fluorescent light, flat and shadowless, bathed everything in blue.

  She reached what she guessed was the halfway point. She had about one hundred more feet. She kept walking. She began to see the outline of the door leading outside. Now there were only eighty feet. Although each step seemed as long as a city block, she began to think she might make it. She picked up her pace. Sixty feet. That was all.

  Suddenly a woman’s voice called out. “Khâhar vâysâ! Stop!” A door closed behind her. “I need your help, Sister.”

  Anna slowed. Who was calling her? Probably a nurse. Maybe even the night nurse who’d attended her. But Roya had said not to stop. Not to engage with anyone. Still, if she didn’t, the nurse would suspect something, wouldn’t she? Anna ignored her. She was only fifty feet from freedom. Just fifty feet.

  The woman let out a stream of Farsi, fast and furious. Anna couldn’t understand the words, but the tone was unmistakable. She was probably saying something like, “Don’t you have ears? What is wrong with you?” But Anna was too close to freedom to stop. Best to pretend she hadn’t heard. If the woman followed her out the door, perhaps Roya could say or do something. She kept going.

  The woman’s voice followed her, closer now. It felt like tiny birds were fluttering in her stomach. The woman was coming after her. Anna’s hands were shaking. She hid them in the folds of her uniform. It couldn’t end this way. Not after everything. She was only twenty-five feet from the door. She tried not to break into a run.

  Suddenly a door opened behind her, and a man’s voice called out in a stage whisper. A Guard? A patient? A doctor? He spoke to the nurse in Farsi. Anna couldn’t understand. She didn’t want to. Was he telling her to shut up? That it was late and people were trying to sleep? The woman argued back. Her voice was low, but insistent. Anna imagined her flailing her arms and pointing to Anna. She only had fifteen more feet. She kept walking. Ten.

  The man’s voice replied. His irritated tone sounded like he was criticizing the nurse. The nurse tried one more time. Anna reached the door. She opened it and sailed through. She was out. A well-worn dirt path led from the door around the corner of the building.

  She glanced in both directions. A bush with red flowers stood on one side of the door, and a spotlight cast elongated shadows from it across the path. Anna wedged herself behind the bush. Roya crouched a few feet away. Anna hurriedly explained what had happened. Roya nodded, told Anna to stay where she was and stood up, brushing twigs and leaves off her uniform. She was pacing back and forth near the door when the woman who had pursued Anna came through.

  “What do you think you’re doing, Sister?” the woman asked. “I’ve been trying to get your attention.”

  “Just getting some air, Sister,” Roya said.

  Anna caught a glimpse of the women’s faces in the light. The nurse—Anna could see that she was wearing a uniform—threw Roya a suspicious glance. “Who are you?”

  “This is my first shift here. I transferred from Pars Hospital.” Roya heaved a sigh. “This place…well, it is more depressing than I imagined.”

  The woman planted her hands on her hips. “The nurse I am looking for was not as tall as you.”

  Anna’s heart stopped. She was petite. Roya was at l
east four inches taller. The woman had obviously noticed.

  “She just came out. Did you see her?”

  There was silence for a moment. Oh god, what would Roya do? Anna held her breath.

  Finally, Roya said, “It was me, Sister. I just came outside. Surely, I am not that tall. My brother used to tease that I was too short.” She giggled.

  The woman’s silence told Anna she was measuring Roya, trying to decide if she was telling the truth. Finally the woman muttered, “Well, it’s too late now. I do not need you anymore.” She turned around, and went back in.

  Roya waited a beat, then exhaled into the silence. So did Anna. The silence deepened, but Anna was elated. It was the silence of freedom.

  *****

  The air had never felt so sweet, the darkness so soft, the stars so bright. Anna floated down the path. She was free. She would never again take it for granted.

  “How did you arrange this, Roya? I can’t believe it. You—”

  “Hurry.” Roya picked up her pace. “We are not safe yet.”

  Anna followed as they made their way toward the street.

  “No,” Roya whispered. “Walk beside me. If anyone stops us, we are two nurses on break.”

  But it was the middle of the night and no one stopped them. They exited the hospital grounds and crossed the street. The only sounds were the thuds of their rubber-soled shoes on the pavement. The mullahs had decreed that women must only wear footwear with rubber soles, Anna recalled. The tapping of heels against the floor was considered too arousing.

  Anna matched Roya’s pace, but she was breathing fast and hard. An adrenaline rush had fueled her escape, but now that she was out, she realized how weak and out of condition she was.

  “It is not much farther,” Roya said encouragingly. She turned a corner onto a commercial street with small storefronts crowded together. There were no lights in the windows, and the street was deserted except for a car parked at other end. “There.” Roya pointed.

  Anna squinted. She could just make out the figure of a man in the driver’s seat. They continued walking and, when they reached the car, Roya threw open the door. Hassan was behind the wheel. He was drumming his fingers on the steering column. He stopped when he caught sight of Anna.

  Anna smiled. Hassan had been telling the truth when he came to see her in Evin. He had helped her escape.

  “Climb in the back,” he said quietly. “Quickly.”

  Anna obeyed. Roya sat in front. Within ten seconds, Hassan started the engine and they pulled out. The tires screeched as they melted into the streets of Tehran.

  Forty-six

  How did you do it?” Anna asked.

  Roya answered. “Hassan has…resources.”

  “But this…I would never have…I am so grateful.”

  Hassan cut her off. “Don’t thank us yet. Your journey is just beginning.”

  “What journey?”

  “Listen carefully, Anna,” Hassan said. “You are going to be on a bus at daybreak. It will take you to Bazargan.”

  “Bazargan?”

  “It is a small town—part of Maku—near the border with Turkey. You will be met by a Kurdish man. He will be wearing a cleric’s garb. He has a car. He will have a valid Iranian passport for you and enough money to get you over the border.”

  “An Iranian passport? How did he get it?”

  Hassan didn’t answer. “The bus will drive to the customs terminal. You will meet him in front of the building. After you get through customs, he will drive you into Dogubeyazit, about twenty-five kilometers inside the border of Turkey. From there, you will change your rials into lira and dollars.”

  “Why dollars?”

  “They take dollars in Turkey. They love them,” Hassan said. “Once you are in Dogubeyazit you will buy a bus ticket to Ankara where you will go to the US Embassy. Once you arrive, the embassy will contact your father and get you an American passport. From there you will fly to America.”

  Anna clapped her hand over her mouth. She wanted to believe the nightmare was coming to an end, but reality told her to remain cautious. “Who arranged this?”

  “All of us,” Hassan said. “Baba-joon, your father—”

  “Baba-joon?”

  Hassan peered at her in the rearview mirror. “You have suffered enough. You don’t belong here. We know you did not kill Nouri.”

  Anna eyed his reflection steadily. “Does that mean you know who did?”

  Hassan hesitated. “I have suspicions, but no proof.”

  Anna wondered if his were the same suspicions as hers. She reviewed what Hassan said, and she could almost taste her freedom. It was so close, just a breath away. But she couldn’t dwell on it. She had unfinished business. “I can supply the proof. But it’s at the house. I need to go there to get it.”

  Hassan pulled to the side of the road. He twisted around, his eyes wide. “You know who killed Nouri?”

  “I had nothing but time in Evin. To think and reflect. Yes, I know who killed him. And I need to set things right.”

  Hassan stared at Anna as if he wanted to say something, but Roya chimed in. “Are you crazy? There is no time to waste. You must leave Iran before they realize you are gone. You will come to my house—we will hide you until dawn. Then you will get on the bus. That is the plan.”

  “Roya, this is something I need to do before I leave.”

  Roya shook her head. “You cannot go back to the house in Shemiran. The Guards are monitoring it.”

  Anna crossed her arms. “Are they there all the time? Twenty-four hours?”

  Roya glanced at Hassan.

  “No,” he conceded. “But they can show up at any moment.”

  Anna’s chin jutted out. “You’re a Guard. You can deflect them if need be. I must do this. It will only take a few minutes. Then we will go to the Samedis.”

  Roya was still shaking her head. “No. It’s not possible.”

  “Look.” Anna’s voice was unyielding. “I…I know things between Nouri and I fell apart. But it wasn’t always that way. In the beginning, when we met…when we first came to Iran…” Her voice cracked, and she fell silent. She bit her lip. When she spoke again, her voice was strong. “I need…I want to make things right. For Nouri. I owe it to his memory. To who he used to be. And the promise of what we might have become.”

  “Out of the question,” Roya said. “It has been arranged. Baba-joon will come to my house with the bus ticket. He wants to say good-bye.”

  “Tell me,” Hassan said. “Who killed Nouri? Once you are safely gone, I will see that justice is served.”

  Anna’s chest went tight. In Evin, then in the hospital, she’d had all the time in the world to think things through. Now there wasn’t a moment to spare. The truth was that her need to seek justice was not motivated simply by her memory of Nouri. The grief at losing her baby was motivating her, too. The baby hadn’t been conceived in love, she knew, but she’d come to hunger for the child anyway. She’d planned to shower it with all the love and attention she herself never had. But whoever killed Nouri—and framed her for the murder—had robbed her of that chance.

  She could leave it to Hassan. She did believe—now—that he wanted to see justice served. But what if he couldn’t make good on his promise? Family was everything in Iran. In many cases, it was the only thing Iranians had left. How could she be sure Hassan would step up to the plate? Or that Baba-joon would let him? In times of crisis, a family often unites to face a common enemy. It was too risky. If anyone took action, it had to be Anna. Even if it meant staying in Iran for a few more hours.

  “Roya, Hassan, I know you mean well. But it must be me. There is no time to argue.”

  “That much we agree on,” Hassan said. “But doing this might mean you’ll be caught. And this time they will make sure you never escape. Are you prepared to take that chance?”

  Anna jiggled her foot. “I thought it would be impossible to get out of Evin. But you made it possible. If Allah, or whatever god ex
ists, wants me to leave Iran, it will happen.”

  Hassan and Roya murmured in Farsi. Anna thought Hassan wanted to let her go, but Roya kept shaking her head.

  Anna cut in. “Hassan, if I find what I’m looking for at the house, there is one last thing I need you to do.”

  *****

  The house Anna had lived in with Nouri was shrouded in empty darkness. An official document was taped to the gate, which made Anna wonder if their belongings had been confiscated. If so, what she was searching for might be gone. She hesitated, then climbed out of the car and hurried to the gate. It was unlocked, which gave her more pause. Were there people inside? Maybe the Foundation had allowed squatters to move in. They could be sleeping in her bed.

  Silently, she opened the gate, squeezed through, and stopped at the edge of the patio. The house looked abandoned. There were no shoes or objects on the patio, no lights inside, nothing to indicate anyone was occupying the house. But how to know for sure? She shook off her fear, opened the gate wider, and beckoned to Hassan and Roya.

  The tiny pool in the yard was clogged with leaves from the chenar tree. They swirled in slow motion. Clearly, no one had been attending to it. A wave of sadness washed over her. Imagining the destruction was one thing; seeing it was another. Then she squared her shoulders. There would be time to grieve later. She went to the front door and tried to open it. It was locked. She turned around. Hassan and Roya were watching her. Roya flipped her palms up in a question.

  Anna and Nouri had always left a key buried in a small box under the chenar tree. She backtracked to the tree, knelt down, and scrabbled in the dirt. She retrieved the box, removed the key, and hurried back to the door.

  The faint stench of rotting garbage assaulted her as they entered the house. Perversely, Anna considered it a good sign. No one was there—if someone was, surely they would have emptied the trash. She looked around. Silent shadows loomed, heavy and thick. Anna tiptoed around them, reluctant to disturb their weight by turning on lights.