A Summary Of Sara's Ransom

Chapter Five: Sara’s Ransom

Twenty-five days post kidnapping
Ally’s lungs were cement blocks heavy in her chest. Unable to breathe, she lay curled in a ball on the floor, gasping for air, drenched in sweat.
Waiting.
The panic attacks had started after Nasif’s first night away and progressively worsened each day. She wanted to pretend it was because he wasn’t there to distract her. But she knew better.
Sayeed would be here soon.
The gnawing voice in the back of her head wouldn’t stop reminding her of the hell his arrival would bring. As the day grew close, the voice became louder, urging her to do something. But there was only so much she could do locked away in a concrete box.
Unable to shut out the images or find a way to escape, hopelessness

would again choke her, triggering another panic attack. Funny thing was, those episodes she spent struggling for air gave her a little hope. Maybe this one will kill me.
Something she knew better than to believe.

After all, she’d spent her career teaching clients that panic attacks were typically non-life-threatening.
While this morning’s episode subsided, she stayed on the floor, slick with perspiration, staring at the ceiling.
He said Sayeed would be here in fourteen days.
Ally crawled beside the bed and dug under the mattress until her fingers wrapped around a thin, wooden pencil. After dragging the frame away from the wall, she slid between the headboard and concrete and sat on the floor. She added another tally mark to the twelve already there. Praying she’d counted wrong, she tapped the back of the eraser against each line and counted again. The end result was the same; Nasif had left thirteen times already. Her pencil slipped out of her shaky fingers and fell to the floor.
One more day.
Images of Sayeed, violating her, flooded Ally’s thoughts. Her chest tightened and her body chilled. Time was running out. Her breathing became labored and a cool sweat beaded across her

lip.
“No.” She covered her ears and shook it all away.
Whatever happens, I will survive.
Rape will not kill me.
The days of crying… Fantasizing needed to end. Now. Those dreams of being rescued, of home and her family waiting for her return, none of them would help her escape this hell. She would have to do this on her own.
Ally closed her eyes, remembering what David used to tell her. “There’s nothing you can’t do.” Maybe if she said it enough times, she might believe his words?
After repositioning the bed, she hid the pencil under the mattress and snatched the brown bag of clothes Nasif had left for her. She sifted through it, grabbing the brown cotton, long-sleeve dress he called an abaya and a matching scarf, before heading for the shower. This was her last chance at convincing the old man.
By the time Nasif appeared with a tray of breakfast, she was dressed, composed and seated on the mat. He nodded approvingly but didn’t say a word. Not even a hello.
Fortunately, the long sleeves of the abaya hid her shaky hands. She hadn’t had the courage to directly ask him for help since their first meal together, and now she had no choice but to beg.
After placing the food on the floor, he sat across from her and served them both. A manila envelope lay in his lap. She pretended not to notice and fought the urge to ask—her irrational way of maintaining control in the situation.
They spent the meal in silence. Food was the last thing on her mind, so Ally sipped her tea, eyeing him from over her cup. He kept shifting, seemed nervous. Her gut screamed something was wrong. But at this point, what could be worse than the things he’d already shared?
After they ate, he put the dishes back on the tray before finally sliding the envelope to her feet. “Sayeed asked me to give this to you.”
When she stared at him to continue, he rose and walked to the other side of the room.
Her stomach twisted and her hands shook as she ripped open the seal. From inside, she pulled out a picture of a man seated on a park bench. Alone.
It took only a moment for recognition to hit, but when it did, it was a punch to her gut. A gasp escaped her as tears welled. Terror tightened her chest and the morning’s tea inched up her throat. She swallowed it down and focused on the image.
His cheeks had hollowed and his thick brown hair was tousled. Shadows formed deep rings under his eyes. But there were no injuries or signs of fear. David stared blankly, lost in thought.
Her mind filled with questions. Each one intensifying the dread in her gut.
Where was he?
Did they have him too?
She scanned the background, recognizing the bench and trees behind him. It was part of the trail she jogged every morning. A whispered moan escaped her lips.
He was waiting for her.
Ally clenched his picture against her chest and cried. No matter what happened to her, the thought of David, safe at home, kept her going. If they had him locked away, hurt him in any way…
She glared at Nasif. He kept his head down and fiddled with his fingers while he leaned against the wall.
“Where is he?” she hissed.
He didn’t respond. She hurried to him and grabbed his wrist.
“How. Did. You. Get. This. Picture?”
“He’s home safe for now, but Sayeed wants you to be aware he is being watched.”
Ally’s stomach dropped. She grabbed hold of the wall as her knees weakened. “Safe for now? What do you mean?”
“Look carefully.”
She stared at the image.
“Behind him, do you see anyone else?”
In the distance, stood a man with dark features and a thin frame. She shuddered. The second kidnapper.
He was out of David’s line of sight and stared at the camera.
“Do you remember him?”
Unable to speak, she nodded.
“If you try to escape or do anything Sayeed disapproves of, that man will kill your husband.”
Ally’s lungs turned to ice and the blood drained from her veins, chilling her soul. The room moved while Nasif’s words played in her head. At first it was a slow turn, but soon it spun out of control. Nasif grabbed her when her legs buckled.
“Don’t touch me.” She jerked out of his grasp and sunk to her knees. “This is your fault. You did this.”
She needed to control herself, to rein in her sobs, but she couldn’t. All this time, she had kept her emotions in check in front of Nasif. Showed just enough tears to try to gain his pity, without making him consider her weak. Shared about her home and asked about his, all to build a connection, a potential bond with the only man who could help. But now everything was different.
She wheezed for air while her throat squeezed shut. She found herself curled in a ball, clutching David’s picture as she suffered the worst panic attack yet. After a long time, her muscles eased and breathing returned. And unfortunately, she was still alive.
When Nasif touched her shoulder, she didn’t shove him away. Instead, she shook her head in defeat. “I have nothing. You and Sayeed took it all away.”
Nasif pulled her up and sat her on the bed. “Look at me, Sara.”
Instead, she stared at her husband. He looked so good in blue. She remembered buying him that shirt a lifetime ago.
“If you stay here and listen, he will remain unharmed.”
“Say his name,” she whispered. Strange, wasn’t it? There she was accepting the fact that her life was over, and willing to pay the final price; all she wanted at that moment was for Nasif to just acknowledge her husband existed.
After a brief pause, he continued. “I hear David is searching for you.”
A tear slipped down her cheek onto the picture. “Is that why you’re doing this to him?” Ally asked as she wiped the moisture off the paper.
He sat beside her and dabbed her face with his handkerchief. “I didn’t do any of this. Sayeed is a powerful man who always gets what he wants.” He tilted her chin, forcing their eyes to lock. “He will kill to make that happen.”
Her stomach twisted as her breakfast refused to be ignored any longer. She swallowed the rising bile and rushed to the bathroom. Before shutting the door, she met Nasif’s concerned gaze. “Please leave. I need some time alone. To think.”
After being hunched over the toilet for an eternity, Ally finally crawled into bed and stared at David. By changing the stakes, Sayeed had won. There was no way she’d fight him now.
By the time Nasif returned, David’s picture was tucked under her pillow. She lay staring at the ceiling, refusing to acknowledge his arrival.
He sat beside her. “Sara, you have every reason to believe I am a bad person. But I need you to understand, sometimes good people must do bad things.” He paused for a response but she had none to give.
“My wife, Hasna, is dying of cervical cancer. When she was diagnosed, I had to make a choice between my family and my morals.”
Had this been any other time in Ally’s life, the pain in his voice would have stirred an ache in her heart. But this wasn’t any other time, and she had nothing to offer to him or anyone else. She had nothing.
“I couldn’t sit and let her suffer. Not if there was something I could do to help. So, I agreed to work for Sayeed. In return, he covers all medical expenses and sends her to the best hospitals. One day, I know, I will answer to Allah for my choices. I am at peace with this because I deserve to be punished.”
His voice brimmed with guilt and she believed him. Every word. But it didn’t change what he’d done. He’d helped bring her into this hell, and no matter his reasons, what he’d done was unforgivable.
“You can’t blame other people for your actions, Nasif.”
The otherwise quiet room filled with his bitter laugh. “You are very right on that. I have not slept since the day I met you. Every time I close my eyes, I see you. You were so scared. Your body was shaking when I found you. I wanted to help. I even told Sayeed I wouldn’t drug you and take you away. That it was wrong. He gave me a choice—either follow his instructions, or no more help for Hasna.” He let out a long, sad breath. “This has been the hardest thing I have ever done.”
“I’ll never get out of here, will I?”
Nasif squeezed her arm. “No one ever has. Once you are in Sayeed’s pocket, you are always there.”
“Why do you make him sound so potent? He’s just one man.”
“A man, yes. But one who sells weapons to some powerful organizations and doesn’t care what suffering results from it, as long as he gets paid.”
She rubbed her temples to ease the throbbing pain in her head.
“Religion, pride in his country, his people—those mean nothing. In his mind, he is God, and he enjoys wielding his power and hurting others.”
The mattress shifted when he rose, but she didn’t bother to look up.
“It is a drug. I have watched him torture and kill for no reason whatsoever. It gives him joy. If he smells fear or hatred in someone, he uses it to destroy them.”
A cool cloth was placed against her forehead, instantly easing the pain.
“He is a predator, Sara, in the truest sense. One I have learned to survive. This is the part I am teaching you. Show no emotion: no fear, no anger. It’s the reason I am still alive. He respects me and believes I will be honest with him. In return, he takes care of my family—Hasna—and reminds me he can kill me at any moment.”
“It makes sense that Sayeed keeps you. You are his doctor, and he knows you need him, so you will be loyal. But what’s my purpose? He can have any woman he wants.”
Nasif laughed and pressed gentle fingers over the pressure points around her eyes and forehead. “When he went to the States, it was to find funding and new suppliers. He saw you at some convention and immediately knew you were created for him. Whatever you said to him in your appointments made him admire you. He says you make him think.
“What did he say?” He paused for a moment before continuing his massage. “Yes, he said you help him see a different way to achieve his goals. And you will need to keep doing this for him. Counsel him the way you did in America.”
When Ally shook her head, he moved close. “Make him believe you provide a valuable service. Never show him your fear. To survive you must act strong.”
“I can’t. Everything’s different. Back then I wasn’t caged, and my husband’s life wasn’t threatened.”
“You can and will. You are stronger than you realize. But there is another reason he wanted you.” He hesitated.
She sat up and handed him the wet handkerchief. “What could be worse than what you’ve already shared?”
The old man rubbed the back of his head and stared at the floor. “You are not his only wife. He has another. Alyah. But he thinks her to be barren and is convinced you are destined to give him a son.”
Ally inched away from Nasif as the nausea returned. The other wife didn’t seem important compared to the last part. Even the rapes she had begun to mentally prepare for—but carrying his child?
“You know why he named you Sara?”
She shook her head.
“It’s after the Prophet Ibrahim’s wife.” Nasif laughed. “Sara is believed to have cured a tyrant of his disease. See, Sayeed knows he’s a monster and, like that Sara, he is hoping you will be his cure by providing him with an heir.”
She clenched her fists in disgust.
“But the two things Sayeed fails to realize are that Sara was the cause of the tyrant’s illness in the first place and that she herself was barren.” Nasif leaned over and patted her leg. “Don’t worry, you will not be able to conceive either. I gave you a shot and in three months, I will give you another. Our secret,” he said proudly. “If he finds out, he will kill us both. But this world can’t handle another Sayeed.”
Overwhelmed, Ally raised her hand to silence him.
So many things filled her head; she focused on the only option she had left. “Nasif, I have no choice but to play this game. I am grateful for the things you’ve done, but I need you to do one more thing, please.”
His brows narrowed.
“I need medicine,” she whispered. “Something that can kill. Quickly.”
She drew a breath and squeezed his arm when he shook his head. “If I was your child, would you allow this to happen?”
He rubbed his forehead and let out a ragged sigh.
“You had no choice but to put your family first, and I may have done the same thing in your position. I promise you, I won’t show any fear and be strong for as long as I can. But if it doesn’t work, or it becomes unbearable…”
She didn’t need to finish. Didn’t bother to say if the drug would be for her or Sayeed. Her message had the intended effect. He averted his gaze but didn’t quiet her. Ally leaned closer. “You said yourself he was a predator who tortures others.”
He patted her back and climbed off the bed. “I’ll see what I can do. Now, you must get some rest. Sayeed arrives in the morning.”
Before she could say anything more, Nasif picked up his belongings and left for the night.

* * *

Sleep didn’t come for Ally. Her mind raced with images of what Sayeed might do to her. She gave up trying to block them out and paced the room as scene after horrific scene played in her brain.
When the panic attacks would start up, she’d sit on the bed and cling to David’s picture. It made her feel less alone. She had to trust there was an escape. Just needed to stay alert and wait for the chance. It was what could happen during the waiting that terrified her.

* * *

Morning came too quickly. Bathed and composed, she sat on the bed, waiting for the devil to make his appearance. When his voice echoed down the hall, Ally’s gut twisted. She wrapped her hands together and squeezed to hide the tremors rocking them. Keys jiggled and the door opened. Her gaze fixed on the specks of gold in the marble as shoes tapped against the floor. Soon, black patent leather came into view.
As a tray of food slid onto the bed, Nasif’s advice from the day before drifted through her head. Look strong. Show no fear.
She rose and stared into dark, frigid eyes. Her throat tightened. He wore his usual three-piece suit, this time gray. When his gaze roamed over her body, she fought the urge to turn away. His bearded face stretched into a smile of approval, and he waved in her direction. “You look good, Sara. The abaya suits you.”
Sayeed moved in, wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. Her heart raced as she tried not to fight his touch. But when his lips inched closer to hers, her disgust overpowered her. She planted her hands on his chest and pushed.
He chuckled, tightening his grip and crushing her to him. As his laugh vibrated against her chest, his arousal dug into her groin. The harder she fought, the tighter he clung.
A figure in the background caught her eye. Nasif. Out of Sayeed’s sight, he put his palm up, mouthing for her to stop. Every cell in her body screamed to fight, to push away and run. But she knew Nasif was right; that would only make things worse. After a slight nod, Ally closed her eyes and stayed frozen as Sayeed’s lips brushed against her cheek.
“I’m a big man, Sara. You will not be disappointed,” he whispered. The smell of cigarettes and Scotch overwhelmed her. Fists clenched, she fought the repulsion while he nipped at her lip. “Tonight you will see how happy I am that you are my wife.” His beard scraped her skin when he pressed his lips against hers. Her body shook and tears streamed her cheeks.
After an eternity, Sayeed loosened his hold and rested his forehead against hers.
Swallowing her fear, she forced the words out. “I don’t want to be your wife.”
The heat of his breath hit her face when he laughed. “With destiny, there are no choices, love.”
Eyes closed, she steadied her voice. “This is not my destiny. You took something that wasn’t yours.”
He grabbed her chin and squeezed, sending currents of pain through her jaw. “Look at me.”
When she did, he smiled and rubbed the wetness off her cheek with his thumb. “You are mine and that is all that matters.” He released his grip and walked out the open door.
Chapter Six: The Stranger

Twenty-six months after Ally’s disappearance
With the office door firmly shut and locked, Dave threaded Ally’s wedding ring onto his pinky as far as it would go. Rows of diamonds wrapped around the band and pointed to a large square solitaire surrounded by more of the stones. This was her favorite piece of jewelry. It had never left her hand, until now.
The rustling of plastic and metal drew his attention away from the ring and focused it squarely on the man wandering his room. The space was set up like a basic office. Two armchairs faced a heavy mahogany desk. His favorite leather chair sat tucked under the table. A large glass wall of windows behind the desk provided a killer view of downtown Philadelphia when open. The blinds slammed shut as the old man closed the last of them.
Dave’s muscles were tight, ready to act as he watched the stranger’s every move. When the man finally turned to face him, Dave approached and thrust the ring in his spectacled face. “How did you get this?”
Though at least a foot shorter, the little fuck stared up impassively. Dave raised his brows, waiting for the man to answer. Instead, the stranger reached out and touched the band. When the wrinkled finger brushed his own, a shudder ran down his spine.
Have those hands touched her? Hurt her?
He pulled his arm away.
“I have wanted to meet you and give that to you for a long time.”
Dave’s body heated and he clenched his teeth as impatience brewed. He grabbed a fistful of the man’s shirt and shoved him against the blinds. “How did you get the ring?”
Instead of answering, the man closed his eyes and sucked in a breath.
He leaned in. “Maybe you didn’t hear me, I said…”
“Yes, I heard what you said. But as long as you stand over me like an angry bull, I can’t answer you. Give me some space, and you will get the information you need.”
The little son-of-a-bitch. A part of Dave screamed to throw him out the window, that he was somehow responsible for her disappearance, and maybe even her death. But he ignored the voice. After all these years, he needed answers. No matter how bad they were. He released his grip and backed away.
“Thank you. May I?” Without a pause, the man walked around him and sat at his desk, in his leather chair.
Dave filled his lungs and tried to rein in the anger and confusion. Positioning himself in the armchair between the man and the door, he leaned forward and, in a more controlled voice, tried again. “Where. Is. My. Wife?”
“In Pakistan.”
Twisting her ring, Dave digested what the man said. Two years of searching and she was in… “Pakistan?”
Although the word sounded odd coming out of his mouth, the deeper meaning of it wrapped around his neck and squeezed. “She’s alive.”
A smile stretched across the stranger’s face and he leaned in. “Yes, very much alive.”
Alive.
Emotion burned the back of his eyes as the assurance he’d hungered for replayed in his brain.
The old man grabbed the framed picture of Ally taken on their honeymoon from the corner of Dave’s desk and stared at it. “She is one of a kind, your Alisha.”
The anger that ebbed seconds ago, reemerged. Dave leaned over and grabbed the man’s wrist. “Who the hell are you to tell me about my wife? What have you done to her?”
“A friend. Who wants to help. And I have a lot to tell you, just not much time, so please listen to what I have to say.”
Dave stared into the old man’s eyes, trying to unlock the secrets in his head but found nothing. “How do I know if I can trust you? That you didn’t kill her and bring me the ring?”
“You don’t. But I have not, and would never, hurt her.” He pulled the picture from Dave’s hand and pointed to her image.
Ally’s head was tilted slightly as she smiled at the camera. His voice cracked. “In the time I have been with her, she has never looked like this, and there is nothing I want more than to put that smile on her face.”
The stranger glanced at the hand still wrapped around his wrist, as if waiting for Dave’s next move. Letting go of the man, he leaned back in his chair and waited. If the guy tried to run, there was no doubt he could take him. Break his legs, neck whatever it took.
“Thank you.” He set down the frame. “As far as proof…” He pulled out a Blackberry from his suit pocket. After an eternity of fiddling, he handed it over.
The phone, still warm from his touch, felt dirty in Dave’s palm. He pushed the thought away and focused on the little screen. A bag of bricks had just been shoved into Dave’s chest, pushing what little air he had left out of his lungs, while his heart tried to pole vault out of the way.
The picture was small and grainy but clear enough. The woman who stared out had enormous, chocolate-brown eyes. Although her hair was covered by a dark scarf, her face was visible. It was longer than he remembered, and the cheek bones more prominent. It didn’t matter, he would recognize her anywhere.
Ally.
Questions ran through his head faster than he could comprehend. “How did you get this?”
When the man didn’t answer, Dave glanced at him before going back to the phone.
“I took them about four weeks back.”
He messed with the buttons in an attempt to text himself the image. The device popped up an error message each time. The perceptive little bastard waved his hand toward the Blackberry. “You won’t be able to do that. The phone is not connected to a network. Scroll through them. There are more.”
And there were. Image after heart-aching image of Ally. Like a man stumbling on an oasis after wandering the desert, Dave’s thirst for her was unquenchable. She looked the same in each: the tilt of her face, a smile that didn’t meet her eyes, the dullness in her gaze. Every muscle in his body clenched. The pain written all over her stabbed at his core.
“What’s wrong with her?” Dave’s words came out choked.
“Her life has been difficult. She will not be able to take much more.”
He wiped away the bead of sweat that settled on his forehead and tried to contain the fear snaking up his spine. “I’m listening.”
“There is a man named Sayeed Irfani. He sells weapons to terrorist organizations. Three years back, he was able to get a visa and come to America. While he was here, he made some very rich and powerful friends and met your wife.”
The stranger reached into his jacket pocket, took out a memory stick and placed it on the desk. “Everything you need is in here: the address, his contacts, everything. But be careful whom you trust with this. There are many in your government and mine whose pockets are padded by Sayeed. If you want your wife, Sayeed must die.”
“Who are you?”
He shook his head “It’s best you don’t know my name. Just that I am a friend of your Alisha.”
Something about the way he said her name sounded off. “What do you mean, your Alisha?”
“Where I come from, her name is Sara Irfani, Sayeed’s second wife.”
Dave sucked in some air, squeezing the ring. “She married him?”
“No, he married her. There’s a difference.” He rose from the chair and pushed it under the table. “I must go before anyone notices I’m missing. She is a good girl and she does not deserve this.”
The stranger walked over and stood so close that Dave saw his stunned reflection in the man’s glasses. “Be careful. You are being watched and have been from the beginning. And remember, you must kill Sayeed. Otherwise, even if you get her, he will come after her.”
With a pat on Dave’s shoulder, he walked to the door. Sayeed, illegal weapons, government officials. The information whirled in his head. “Wait. You can’t say all that and just leave. How will I find her?”
He jutted his chin toward the desk. “It is on the memory stick.”
Dave rushed to his side. “How do I find you?”
“I have done all I can. The rest is up to you. But please, hurry,” the man added before walking out the door.
He grabbed the drive and stared at the small metal object as his brain replayed everything the stranger shared. She’s alive. In danger, but alive. Who could he trust?
Chapter Seven: First Night

Twenty-six days post kidnapping
As soon as Sayeed left the room, Ally’s shoulders slouched. She sat on the bed before her knees gave way. Her face was drenched with perspiration and tears, and she wiped the wetness onto her sleeve and worked on steadying herself.
So much had happened, and even more would follow, but for now she was safe. As she stared at the still-open door and considered the option of walking out of it, Nasif and two men entered. Ally gripped the mattress and assessed the new visitors.
Large machine guns hung over each of their shoulders and fully stocked ammunition belts hung around their hips.

After entering, one stood guard on either side of the threshold, overcrowding her small prison.
Nasif leaned against the wall and spoke quietly to the smaller man. Although the shorter of the two, the man was still well over six feet in height. Catching her eye, Nasif rested his hand on the guard’s shoulder. “Sara, this is Amir.”
Amir nodded. He looked young, late teens or early twenties, with a serious face and enormous hazel eyes. His thick, black mustache didn’t fit his youthful features and the oversized jeans and short-sleeve shirt he wore made him look like a child playing dress-up. If not for the gun and belt, she’d not have even considered him a threat.
“And over there is Kadeen.” Nasif waved toward the giant of a man standing a few feet away. Like Amir, he too wore faded jeans and a tee. Kadeen’s brows rose and his dark eyes narrowed when her gaze locked with his. The scar across his cheek, the tight line his mouth made, all of it sent a shiver down her spine. Everything about him screamed danger.
Nasif gestured toward the open door. “Come, let me give you a tour of your new home.”
Sucking in a breath, Ally clenched the sides of her abaya and exited the prison for the first

time.
At the threshold, she hesitated. There was a good chance that whatever lurked out there would be worse than being holed up in the room. She scanned the area. The hallway stretched in both directions. At the ends were sharp turns leading in different ways. Its walls were painted a golden orange, which made the bits of gold in the black marble sparkle. Dark wood doors of varying sizes, all closed, lined the way. Aside from the metal chair and small wooden table across from her room, the space was empty.
When Nasif disappeared to the right, Ally followed, fully aware Amir and his gun were close behind. There didn’t appear to be locks on the knobs of the rooms she passed. Her fingers itched to test her theory. She craned her neck behind the young guard and was relieved to see the older one was not accompanying them. Her eyes locked with the man shadowing her. When he tipped his head, encouraging her to keep moving, she nodded and shifted her focus back to Nasif.
Images of Amir pointing his weapon at the back of her head and firing made her pulse accelerate. She tightened her grasp on her skirt and shook the fears away. One of these rooms would lead her out of this hell, but now was not the time to figure out which.
By the time she caught up with Nasif, he stood in front of a closed room. Through the thick, dark wood, she heard the clatter of pots and the voices of women. When Ally reached his side, he tipped his chin toward the entrance. “This is the kitchen. You will be spending a lot of time in here with the others.”
The smell of aromatics filled her sinuses as soon as he opened the door. Peering over his shoulder, she took in the oversized room. A long, black marble countertop matching the floor wrapped around the space. On it were two portable stoves, pots, utensils and food being prepped. Rows of shelves filled with glass containers lined the walls.
The voices grew silent and five sets of eyes fixed on Ally. Four of the women wore salwar kameez—long tunics that fell to their knees—with matching pants. Unlike Ally, their heads were uncovered. She sucked in a breath and searched their faces. Would at least one of them help her?
The fifth, a petite woman dressed in a light blue hijab and abaya approached. Her complexion was creamy white—a perfect canvas for her sea green eyes, a touch paler than David’s.
“Sara,