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“Rahman, what do you mean ‘go’? Go where? Where do you have to go?”

“Ayesha, something has happened that… that I can’t stop and I can’t let it go on either,” he said, trying to explain rationally what her emotions would never allow her to understand.

“No! No, Rahman! Wherever it is, whatever it is, no! You can’t go!” she said, trembling, fearing the worse.

“Ayesha…”

“Then I’m going, too! If you go, I’m going, and the children are going. We’re all going, Rahman.”

Ayesha was hysterical. Her instincts told her that something terrible was threatening to rip their lives apart.

He grabbed her arms with force and shook her, hoping to make her understand.

“Nine little girls, Ayesha. Nine little girls are going to die unless I do! If I don’t go, they die! Do you understand? I have to go!”

Ayesha would hear none of it. She wrapped her arms around his neck like a vise.

“You promised me, Rahman! You promised me you wouldn’t leave me! What about that? You can’t leave me now, leave us,” Ayesha pleaded selfishly.

“Ayesha, please. There’s nothing I can do. Please. Don’t make it harder for me. Don’t let the kids hear us,” he pleaded softly, but Ayesha was in hysteria’s grip.

“No! They will hear if that’ll keep you here! Ali! Aminah! Anisa!” she yelled, tearing herself from Rahman’s arms and running into the living room.

“Ayesha!”

Rahman followed her into the living room.

“Go to your father! Go to Abu and tell him not to go! Tell him not to leave us!” Ayesha cried from the depths of her soul.

The children understood nothing but their mother’s tears. They ran and wrapped their little bodies around Rahman’s legs and each other.

“Abu? Where are you going? Don’t go. Please!”

“Abu, don’t leave us!”

“Daddy!”

The chorus of young pleas tore Rahman in two pieces, father and man.

“Tell them, Rahman. Tell them! You tell them where you’re going!” Ayesha screamed. She fell to her knees, pleading and praying. “Nine little girls… but what about your own three? You can die for strangers but you can’t live for your own family?”

Rahman knew if he didn’t pull himself away he’d never leave. He hugged and kissed his begging, wet-faced babies and embraced his wife for the last time.

“How could you do this to me, Rahman? How?” she repeatedly asked as he rocked her in his arms.

“I’ll meet you in Paradise. Insha Allah,” he said before pulling away, leaving his children wrapped in their mother’s arms, not knowing why their daddy was leaving.

Rahman looked at them once more and said a silent prayer for their protection. Then he was gone.

Nina pulled up to her house and climbed out of the car. It was still morning but the sun was already scorching.

She looked at the For Sale sign on her lawn. This was the first home she had ever purchased and she couldn’t believe she was selling it. She never thought she’d move. She never thought this wouldn’t be home. Luckily, the market was strong with the low interest rates and the house had sold within ninety days after being placed on the market.

“Really good, Nina. Really good. And we got our asking price. What more could you ask for?” asked her real estate lawyer with papers in hand for her to sign so he could close the deal.

She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, looking at her house one last time, hoping she was doing the right thing. It felt like the right thing. The burden on her already felt lighter. She ascended the porch and had already taken out her keys when she noticed that the door was open a crack. Her heart skipped a beat thinking that there was a burglar or an intruder inside.

Maybe it was Dwight. But he had left his key the night they broke up.

Maybe she had left the door ajar. She had become absentminded lately. Just the other day she left a cup of mocha on her car roof only to have the hot liquid spill all over her windshield when she backed out of Dunkin’ Donuts.

Nina gingerly pushed the door wider and yelled, “Hello?”

She got no response.

Nina peered into her house, afraid to go in, not knowing what could be waiting for her. When she reached for the knob to close the door and call the police, she saw a rose petal on the foyer floor.

It was blood-red and unmistakable, just inches from her Nike sneaker. It was too fresh to have been there long, and she couldn’t remember the last time she had flowers in her house. She opened the door a little wider. Her heartbeat accelerated when she saw another rose petal and another and another.

Nina was frightened. She felt in her heart that Dwight hadn’t left the trail of rose petals. Only one man would leave such a subtle and alluring message. Only one man, and that’s what petrified her and excited her all at the same time. The trail of rose petals became one long rainbow, the rainbow Susan said to believe in, the one with the pot of gold at the end. Nina’s first step confirmed her belief and each shaky step after urged her to run in the other direction.

He’s toying with you.

Run.

She reached the steps.

All he’s ever brought you is pain.

Run.

She reached the landing where the steps turned and climbed to the second floor.

He left you when you loved him most.

Run.

He lied to you. He’s here.

Nina reached the second floor and the rose petals continued to her bedroom door.

Run.

She saw the sun shining on her pillow through the slightly open door. Her knees trembled, her stomach fluttered, and her lips quivered in anticipation.

She wanted to call out his name but couldn’t will her voice to work. The sunlight took on a surreal aura inside her room. She approached the door and stared at the knob.

Run.

But she didn’t run, she couldn’t run. The mystery of what awaited her magnetized her. She pushed the door open slowly and what she found stopped her breath.

• • •

“Hello, Rahman,” Angel said as he stepped into the classroom.

Angel sat on the floor with her legs folded under her and was reading a book to the nine little girls circled around her. Her gun rested on the floor between her legs.

The teacher remained in Angel’s line of vision but was not part of Angel’s little circle. The girls looked around and saw Rahman.

As-Salaamu Alaikum,brother Rahman,” said one of the little girls. The others shouted out the same.

Rahman looked into their smiling faces and could see that they didn’t have any idea of what was happening. He had half expected to find them tied up and gagged. Thanks to Allah they weren’t. But the situation couldn’t have been much worse. They were sitting next to a loaded cannon. Rahman glanced at the teacher. As he expected, Angel had scared her half to death. The teacher was visibly shaken.

“What are you doin’, Angel?” Rahman asked.

“Just tellin’ ’em a story.” Angel smiled at the girls sitting around her so happily.

“Miss Angel, tell us about the dragons and the prince again,” one little girl chimed.

Angel gripped the chain. “Not now, little ones. I need to talk to mi amigo. Si?

Si,” they all repeated, as if Angel had just taught Spanish 101. The little girls giggled as Angel brushed their heads as she stood up, her gun once again cleverly hidden in her sling. She took a seat on one of the hard wooden chairs and faced Roc.

“Can… can I take the children now, please?” the teacher asked.

“Of course you can go now, but don’t get stupid. Don’t get anyone else hurt,” Angel replied, nodding to Rahman.