by Holly Rayner
"You pressured a nineteen-year-old into having an affair with you," Tehar replied calmly. "And it was your own indiscretion that nearly destroyed this entire company. That's hardly the same as recording secret footage of people."
"I didn't have a choice," Mitchell declared. "The only way to stay ahead in this business is to have something to hold over everyone else. I didn't design the system, I just wasn't gonna get screwed over by your morality policing B.S. again. And now I never will."
He held up the small camera he was holding.
"Because now I have evidence of you two breaking into the studio and trying to steal from me. I could not only have you fired, I could have you arrested. In fact, I think I will. And once the Sheikh there is out of the way, I'll get my old job back. And when Henry Alan sees a few of the videos I have of him, well…"
Mitchell chuckled suggestively.
"If you have us arrested, the police will confiscate the files," Kathy reminded him. "And I have a feeling they'd get you into a lot more trouble than us."
"It's stolen property," Mitchell sniffed. "They'd have no right to inspect it."
"Maybe." Kathy shrugged. "But you know what I bet they would inspect?"
She grinned.
"The security footage."
"You think I'm dumb enough to come in here without turning off the cameras?" Mitchell scoffed.
"No," Kathy said. "But did you turn off the main desk camera? Or the weather camera? How about every camera on the sound stage?"
Tehar stepped back to flip on a light switch. Every camera in the room was on and facing their way, the red recording lights blinking.
"I turned them on while we were on our way into your office," Kathy explained while Mitchell stared, stunned. "We would have wiped them before we left, but I had a feeling you wouldn't be able to resist the urge to gloat. And sure enough, here you are. And you just gave us a full recorded confession."
"I'm sure Henry Alan will be most interested to hear your plans for him," Tehar said, smiling.
Mitchell turned pale.
"You wouldn't dare," he said. "I still have the video of you! If you tell anyone, I'll—"
"Considering the fact that we're dating—monogamously," Tehar interrupted. "I doubt it will cause much of a scandal. But you're welcome to try. I'm sure it would only help your case."
Mitchell stumbled for a moment, clearly searching for some way out. Suddenly, he yowled like an enraged animal and threw himself at them, swinging the flashlight at Tehar's head like a club.
Tehar pushed Kathy quickly out of the way and raised an arm to catch the blow, grabbing the flashlight and swinging his other fist into Mitchell's jaw. Mitchell stumbled and Tehar wrestled the flashlight away from him, throwing it into the darkness. But Mitchell recovered, tackling Tehar, trying to get his hands around the other man's throat.
Kathy watched, afraid to intercede for the sake of her child, but tense with fear at the sight of Tehar fighting. Suddenly, Tehar threw Mitchell off, shoving him backward into a desk. Mitchell stumbled, catching himself as he slipped in a pile of paperwork. He was dazed, but Tehar didn't move in to finish him.
"Stop this, Mitchell," Tehar warned him. "You've already lost. A beating isn't going to change that."
Mitchell, clearly beyond reason, just charged at him again. They struggled with one another, fighting their way across the sound stage, each one taking blow after blow. Apparently, all of Mitchell's dodging actual work to work out on the beach hadn't been for nothing, but Tehar was stronger. Then, just as Kathy thought he had Mitchell beaten, Tehar slipped, his foot sliding on the same paperwork Mitchell had knocked over earlier, falling on to the main broadcast desk. Mitchell wasted no time, grabbing Tehar by the neck and slamming his head down into the desk to daze him.
"I always hated you," he snarled, strangling Tehar. "You sanctimonious, self-righteous asshole! I'm going to destroy you—I don't care how! If the video I have won't work, I'll find something else. I won't stop until you're a homeless wreck begging for—"
Kathy handed Tehar the flashlight, and he hit Mitchell over the back of the head with it, the sound an earsplitting crack. Mitchell slumped to the floor at once, out cold. Tehar got up, dropping the flashlight.
"God, I was so scared," she said, hugging him tightly. "Are you okay?"
"I'm all right," Tehar said, putting a hand to his head and grimacing at the sight of blood. "Or I will be, anyway. Thanks to you."
They smiled at each other, relieved, victorious. Even if none of the blackmail material was admissible in court, they had a video of Mitchell nearly trying to kill Tehar now as well. There was no way he'd ever work in the industry again.
"I think it's about time we called the cops," Kathy said.
"I think you're right," Tehar agreed.
An hour or so later, they were still sitting on the sound stage, finishing up their report to the police. Tehar had been checked out by a paramedic and patched up. He'd need a couple of stitches for his head, but nothing serious. Mitchell had been taken off to the emergency room with a fractured skull, handcuffed to the gurney.
"It's a pretty wild story," one of the officers said, watching some of the blackmail tapes. She'd already rewound and watched the footage from the soundstage main camera. "But it checks out. This is going to be an interesting case to pursue, that's for sure."
"If you can keep it as quiet as possible, it would be greatly appreciated," Tehar said. "At least until we can be sure all those videos are destroyed. No one would want to see those getting out."
"Don't worry, Mr. Al-Kindi," the officer reassured him. "We'll take care of it. Everything is going to be fine."
"And we're not going to get in trouble for breaking in, right?" Kathy asked with an awkward smile.
"Well, I'm pretty sure he owns the building so…" The officer shrugged. "Unless someone else in the company decides to press charges, I don't see any reason you two would need to worry."
Kathy sighed in relief and smiled at Tehar. It looked like all their problems, at least with Mitchell, were solved.
Suddenly, she doubled over with a surprised cry, clutching her stomach.
"Whoa! Are you all right?" the officer said, taking her shoulders. Tehar took her other side, worried, while the officer called for a medic.
"I'm fine," Kathy wheezed. "It's just contractions. Probably brought on by all the stress. They'll go away on their own in a bit—ah!"
She hunched over again, biting her lip and gripping Tehar's hand as she waited thirty seconds for it to pass. It felt like someone was running an electric mixer over her insides.
"That seemed worse than normal," Tehar said, worried. "Longer, too."
"I'm fine," Kathy said breathlessly, lightheaded. "Really."
But the police medic decided otherwise, calling them another ambulance. Kathy kept insisting it was just false labor, but by the time they reached the hospital, they were coming fast and regular enough that even she was beginning to accept that this was for real. She was about to have a baby.
"I'm here with you," Tehar promised, holding her hand as they wheeled her into the ER. "I'll be with you every step of the way."
"Do me a favor," Kathy said, taking deep breaths to try to ignore the pain rippling through her abdomen. "First, get our doctor on a plane over here. Second, I'm going to want chocolate when this is over. A lot of it."
"I will buy the nearest chocolate store for you," he promised, kissing her hand. "I will have a ten-pound brick sent overnight from Switzerland. Anything you want, my flower. You have never looked so beautiful."
Kathy's laughter was interrupted by another surge of intense discomfort. Then, they were wheeling her into a room and it was time to begin.
Around eight hours of exhausting, uncomfortable work later, it was over. Kathy closed her eyes, lying back against the bed, knowing she was close to passing out, but unwilling to quite let go yet.
"Hang in just a little longer," Tehar said. He was still sitting beside her
, looking awed and exhausted.
The nurse returned with their baby, freshly washed and weighed.
"Here you go," the nurse said, leaning down to place the baby in Kathy’s arms. "One healthy, beautiful baby girl."
"Oh, wow." Kathy's eyes widened as she looked down at her baby. Her daughter. The soft, squishy face that looked up at her made her heart feel like it was bursting out of her chest.
She'd always thought newborns looked kind of weird and alien before. But this baby, her baby, looked like the most beautiful thing in the world. Her little girl opened her eyes, dark blue, and looked up at her, and Kathy knew she was lost forever. She was never going to love anything the way she loved this tiny human in her arms right then.
"Look at her," Kathy said in wonder, shifting so that Tehar could see. He leaned in close eagerly, and she could see the same transformation happening in his eyes. Devotion, as easy as that, instinctual and perfect.
"She's perfect," he said softly like she was something holy. "Beautiful."
"Have you decided on a name?" the nurse asked, interrupting their reverie.
"Ah, I don't know," Kathy said, suddenly stumped. "I was so sure it was going to be a boy. We haven't really talked about girl names."
"How about Amira?" Tehar suggested, looking up at Kathy for approval. "It means princess."
"That sounds perfect," Kathy said with a smile, looking down at her baby again. "Amira…"
Chapter Sixteen
The wind blew the smell of ice and pine down from the mountain, stirring the leaves of maple with a quiet, rushing sound almost like the ocean. Kathy stood in the backyard of her family home. Halfway up the mountain, from there, she could look down on her hometown, and on the sweep of nature that surrounded them. Lush green forests and mountains, stony and snowbound, carved out their place in the sky.
It was beautiful, and once, it would have made Kathy feel at home. But she'd had so many homes now. By the sea in tropical Florida. In a palace in the deserts of Abu Sadah. Home had ceased to a place, and had become a person. Or rather, several people.
"Are you ready to go inside?"
Kathy looked behind her, where Tehar stood holding baby Amira, only a few months old. It was the anniversary of Kathy’s father's death. She'd spent the past few days with her lawyer, clarifying that she had fulfilled the terms of the will and signing paperwork to transfer the property to her. Along with the deed to her home, the lawyer had given her a letter.
"Your father instructed this be given to you on this date," he said. "Whether you'd completed the last wishes outlined by the will or not."
She was still holding it and hadn't dared to open it yet. She took a deep breath.
"Yeah," she said.
She unlocked the door with the key the lawyer had given her and stepped back into her childhood. It was beautiful old Craftsman-style house, local stone and wood exterior, exposed-beam high ceilings and hardwood floors, spacious enough for a large family to live very comfortably. It was clean and well maintained. The lawyer had explained that they'd had a caretaker keeping an eye on things and sent a cleaning crew through ahead of them.
Everything was ready for them to move in. Even the furniture was still there. Kathy ran her fingers over the back of her father's favorite chair, still in its place in the living room, her feelings a confused tangle within her.
"This is a beautiful home," Tehar said, climbing the stairs to peer into the bedrooms, calling back to her. "This room would be perfect for the nursery."
Kathy followed him, smiling when she saw the room with its bright north-facing windows. "This was my room when I was a kid," she said. "My bed was right there. I guess they packed it up when I moved out. Yeah, this will be perfect for Amira."
"And we'll have guest rooms for the rest of the family when they visit," Tehar said brightly, looking into the other doors. Kathy knew he was trying to cheer her up. He knew how hard the day had been on her. They heard the sound of a car door shutting downstairs and Tehar smiled. "Speak of the devil."
The front door opened and Tessa stuck her head in curiously.
"Hello?" she called out.
"We're up here," Kathy replied, heading down the stairs.
Tessa hurried inside to give Kathy a hug, followed by Khalila, pushing Shadaf's wheelchair.
"Thank you so much for picking them up from the airport for us," Kathy said. "I know you only just got here yourself."
"It's fine!" Tessa said. "I was in the airport anyway, why not carpool? Wow, this place hasn't changed at all!"
She stepped past Kathy to look at the old house, amazed.
"Do you remember playing board games on that rug?" Tessa asked, laughing. "How many times did I crash on that exact couch? Hey, I wonder if those games are still here? Who's up for Monopoly?"
She went to inspect the games cabinet as Kathy turned to Khalila and Shadaf.
"It's a beautiful house," Shadaf said. "A bit smaller than what we're used to, of course."
He laughed a little weakly, looking pale.
"He's still tired from the flight," Khalila said apologetically.
"Well, make yourselves at home," Kathy said, stepping out of the way. "There's plenty of time to rest before dinner."
Shadaf nodded gratefully as they moved into the living room. Kathy looked up in surprise as she saw someone else following them inside. It was Fairuz, looking nervous and out of place. Khalila had shed her abaya and headscarf, probably during the layover in Paris, but Fairuz was still wearing hers.
"Fairuz!" Kathy said, offering a hug. "I didn't know you were coming."
Fairuz accepted the hug tentatively.
"I asked her to come," Tessa confessed, coming to stand next to her. "We got to talking while I was visiting you, and I thought we should hang out again."
Kathy had returned to Abu Sadah shortly after leaving the hospital. She'd wanted to show Amira to Basira and the rest of her family. Tessa had come along, wanting to meet Tehar and everyone else, joking that she needed to make sure they were good enough for her friend. Kathy hadn't missed how well she'd connected with Fairuz, though she had a feeling it had surprised Tessa as much as everyone else.
"I'm looking forward to checking out some of the schools here," Fairuz said a bit shyly. "I'm thinking about continuing my education here in the States."
Kathy had a feeling, from the way she and Tessa were looking at each other, that wasn't all she was planning to check out. Kathy was happy for them both.
Kathy got her guests settled and escaped before Tessa could pull her into the board game she was currently explaining to Fairuz and Khalila. Tehar sat near them listening with Amira in his lap. Shadaf was dozing in her father's chair.
She went quietly upstairs to the room at the end of the hall. This had been her parents’ room when she was a child, then just her mother's when her father had left. And then, for a little while she supposed, it must have been her father's again, after her mother died.
It was tidy, no dust left on the dresser, the bed neatly made. She almost wished the cleaners hadn't been so thorough. She would have liked to see his glasses, forgotten on the night stand. A coat left hanging on the back of a chair. A book left open on the bed. The signs of a life in progress, like at any moment he might walk in and resume it.
Instead, it felt empty, hollow. A discarded shell, like the husk of a dead insect in the corner of a rarely used room. She opened a window, hoping the clear mountain air would make this suddenly stifling, claustrophobic room more bearable. She breathed in deeply and could almost smell him.
She sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling the letter he'd left her out of her pocket. She ran her fingers along the edges of the envelope, delaying the inevitable. If she didn't read it, it would always be there to read and, in a way, he would never be gone. But she would also never know if the answers she needed were in there. What he'd been thinking at the end, what he'd thought of her. She couldn't bear that. She opened the letter, the sound of tearing paper
almost obscene in the silence of the room that had once been his. She unfolded the letter with shaking hands.
Dear Kathy,
If things happened the way my lawyer said they would, then by the time you read this I'll have been dead for a year. You will have read my will and either completed or ignored my last request.
At this point, I don't know which one I hope you did. I'm sure you want to know why I wrote it that way. Why I wanted you to start a family. To tell the truth, I don't really know myself. I'm writing this from my hospital bed. I just finished the Syria article. You were just here. I pretended to be asleep. I didn't know what to say. You didn't cry. You just looked at me for a while and left. And now I'm alone. I probably won't be here much longer and the thought of dying alone is the most terrifying thing I've ever experienced. I've had too much time to lay here thinking about my life and how much I regret everything I've done, all the people I pushed away. I don't want this for you. I don't want you to spend your life alone, to die alone. You and your mother, you were my one chance to turn things around. But, like an idiot, I ignored it.
You probably hate me for what I made you do. If you didn't hate me before that. You should hate me. I want you to. I was never anything but a force of unhappiness in your life. In the end, I just tried to keep you from getting attached in the hopes that it would hurt less when I let you down. But I would rather you hate me then repeat my mistakes.
You are a brilliant journalist. Please don't let my stubbornness, my emotional constipation, ever make you think that I wasn't incredibly proud of you. I read everything you published, watched every moment you were on screen a dozen times. I wanted to tell you, but I was as afraid of reaching out then as I'm afraid of being alone now. The work was all I ever knew or cared about and I was afraid of what would happen if I ever shared that love with anything else. Even you.
I made my mistakes. I'm still making them. I know what I'm doing, forcing you this way, even writing you this letter to try to make you pity me. I know I don't deserve sympathy for this. But I'm doing it anyway. Whether you had the baby or not, whether you hate me or not, please, don't be alone.