HABIB IS VERY CLEVER,”SABERAis saying now.“He merely pretended to be a ghost so I would think that my family and I were safe.But no, he’s been plotting all along.He will not rest till he has avenged himself and his family.He will do whatever it takes, regardless of the consequence.Just like Rafiq.”
I glance over at Roberta to see if she’s following any of this.She’s lowered her headscarf to better hear Sabera’s rasping voice.The woman is a mess, black eye, split lip, lacerated cheek.Her trembling hand, still clutching some kind of rusty steak knife, appears to have two broken fingers and one ripped-out fingernail.I feel ill just looking at such damage.I have no idea how she survived it.
We’ve almost convinced her we’re the good guys.The fact we’ve been able to name drop everyone from Aliah to Nageenah to Captain Kurtz to spymaster Lilla is helping.We’ve also assured her that Zahra is safe, and we’ll happily take her to her daughter, but first we need to rescue Aliah.
Which seems to be one development too many for Sabera’s clearly stressed-out mind.Given the current conversation regarding ghosts who are not ghosts, I wonder about her mental state in general.How long has it been since she’s taken her prescribedmeds, because last I knew, suddenly quitting antidepressants let alone antipsychotics leads to very bad things.
Definitely, Sabera is highly agitated.
“Once you realized Habib was still alive, that’s when you and Isaad made the plan for you to disappear?”
“I needed a place to hide.I should’ve been able to see it immediately, but the drugs… They dull my thinking.Eventually, I realized I could sneak into the vacant rooms and apartments at the resort where I work.”
“So when you initially disappeared?”
“I never caught the bus.I backtracked to an empty unit instead.”
“Did you tell your coworkers you were leaving Isaad?”I want to know.
“Divorce is shameful.I knew it would occupy their minds, distract them from revealing other details about me.”
“What happened?”Roberta asks.“Because…” She gestures to Sabera’s battered features.
“I was not careful enough.”The words come out hoarsely.In the dim light, I can just make out a ring of bruises around her throat.“I kept looking for Habib, expecting Habib.I never saw Rafiq or his cousin till it was too late.”
I’ve heard the name Rafiq before, as well as a reference to a cousin.It comes to me—Detective Marc, identifying the two dead men in the warehouse.
Roberta, on the other hand: “Who’s Rafiq?”
“We shared a cabin with him and his family at the first refugee camp.His wife, Malalai, was very kind, helping us learn how to survive.And one of their sons, Omid, took a liking to Isaad, following him everywhere.Isaad taught him math.Can you imagine?One of the greatest mathematicians, famous for his arrogance, scratching basic sums in the dirt to occupy the campchildren?He loved Omid, too.”Her voice catches.Then, in a single breath:
“Omid died.Zahra was born.And Rafiq grew bitter that we had a child, while he and his wife lost theirs.We didn’t know what happened to them.We transitioned to a different camp while they…
“They were never granted refugee status.Eventually, they were expelled back to Afghanistan, where, given they were Hazaras, the Taliban snatched them up.Rafiq told me his children died quickly.Malalai was not so lucky.”
Sabera’s gaze has taken on a distant, glassy look.Her tone is terrifyingly matter-of-fact.This is life.This is the world we live in.This is what can happen to any of us.
“But Rafiq got out alive?The Taliban let him go?”Roberta asks.
“He bartered for his freedom.Offered them untold riches, a cave filled with gold.He offered them to me.”
Sabera returns her attention to us.“After the birth of my daughter, I was sick.Malalai tended me.I was too feverish to know.I thought she was an angel, sent to save me.I talked, said many things.I have no memory, but apparently I gave up not only my secrets but also my mother’s.Malalai related these things to her husband.And eventually, he used this information to save his life.If they let him go, he would find the key and bring it to them.”
“And they believed him?”I’m already skeptical.
“They might not have, except they had another prisoner at the time.A young male from a good family, also recently deported back to Afghanistan.My cousin Habib.He’d told them similar stories.They’d ignored him, but now with two men who seemedto know the same things about the same woman.”Sabera shrugs.“A deal was struck.”
Her gaze falls to her lap, where her right hand is still gripping the knife.She’s no longer threatening us with the blade, nor does she let it go.Maybe at this point, being without a weapon no longer feels like an option.
“And Rafiq recruited his cousin for the cause?There are other men involved as well, yes?Including your brother, Farshid?”I ask gently, as that’s the kidnapper Lilla identified.
Sabera shakes her head.“Farshid is dead.”
“He’s not here in Tucson?”
“No, I thought he was alive, wanted to believe he survived the fall of Kabul, especially as his spirit has never found me.But, no, fate was not that kind.The males in my family all look very similar, including my brother Farshid and our cousin Habib.Once before, in Dr.Richard’s medical clinic, I thought I saw Farshid coming through the doors.But it was only Habib, bruised and battered and as cruel as ever.He threatened me and my unborn child.So I suffocated him to death with my bare hands.At least, I thought I did.But Dr.Richard arrived before I could be certain, and then Omid died and Zahra was born and now it’s all a blur in my mind.”
Sabera rubs her temple with her left hand, then winces in pain.
