Chapter 24 · Chapter 24

The heavy cedar doors had scarcely shut behind the dismissed cousin when the intercom beside the perimeter station chimed once, a flat, discreet tone that cut through the lingering drift of oud.

Farhan, the house steward, stepped into the archway with his hands clasped low over his crisp thobe. He waited until Saad turned toward him before speaking, his voice pitched to the exact threshold of respectful utility.

"Ya ustadh," Farhan murmured. "The northern gate intercom has reported a vehicle. It is Sheikh Tariq Al-Shahrani. He has declined to surrender his driver's manifest at the outer barrier. He asks if his sister remains under this roof as an honored daughter of his house, or if her standing has been compromised by the talk circulating through the quarter."

A chill settled into my chest, sharp and entirely still. Tariq. My elder brother, who carried the unbending pride of the Al-Shahrani line in every deliberate movement of his frame.