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“You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.” Janet stroked Sanaa’s cheeks.
“I want you to tell you.” Sanaa wiped a tear from her eye. “Our car fell, and mama hit her head. So much glass poked her. There was blood everywhere.” Sanaa started crying. Janet comforted her. She had lost her father years ago, but she was fortunate not to see him die the way Sanaa saw her mother die.
“There was a man, in the truck, he got out of the truck and came to us. He was wearing black stuff. Mama called out to him for help, I think he wanted to help, he pulled the glass from mama’s neck, but she only bled more,” said Sanaa.
“There was someone?” Janet jerked up and looked at Sanaa.
“He said to me if I ever tell anyone that I saw him, he would kill me.” Sanaa looked at Janet with her watery eyes. “What if he knows I told you? Janet, I’m scared.”
“It’s okay; he won’t know you told me.” Janet felt her stomach knot up. Was it a coincidence that Sanaa and her mother were hit by a truck on a Sunday or not? “Did you see his face?” Janet asked. Sanaa nodded.
“He looked scary; he had a scar on his cheek.”
“What?” Janet’s lip started quivering. She felt like she was going to be sick. Tears rolled down her face as she pulled Sanaa into her arms. She couldn’t believe the coincidence. She sobbed quietly and squeezed Sanaa tightly. Sanaa was also crying.
Sanaa stopped crying and just fell asleep. Janet slowly climbed out of bed and headed out of the room. Still in her pajama bottoms and a white T-shirt, she rushed upstairs, walked through the kitchen and into the dining room. The maids looked at her as though she had gone crazy, but she didn’t care. Janet walked up the stairs, her legs shaking like jelly and fists squeezed tightly. She knocked on the sheikh’s bedroom door.
“What?” he called out. Janet stood at the door, shaking like a leaf, but she needed to talk to him. The door opened, and Janet looked up at the sheikh. He was wearing a pair of silk pajama bottoms without a shirt on.
“Janet?” He raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here? At this time, not dressed properly?”
“I need to talk to you.” Her voice shook.
“Can’t it wait?”
“No.” Janet walked into his bedroom. It was her first time in there. It was large, much larger than Sanaa’s. His king-sized bed was unmade; he had probably gotten straight out of bed to answer the door.
“Um,” Janet cleared her throat. The sheikh narrowed his gaze at her.
“You caused so much fuss already; you might as well say whatever you have to say.”
Janet took a deep breath. “You asked me what I did before I started working here,” she said.
“You worked at a shipping company.” The sheikh crossed his arms over his chest.
“I didn’t quite tell you everything.”
“Okay?”
“I worked for a cartel,” she said. She looked up at the sheikh. “I didn’t know at first, but then when I found out, it was too late. I couldn’t quit. The only way I could leave was in a body bag.”
“I see,” the sheikh replied.
“One day, I overheard my boss talking to his right-hand man, talking about Sunday and a family. I didn’t know what he was talking about at first, but then when he asked me to buy a truck for him, it clicked. I wanted to say no, but he was adamant. He wanted it as soon as possible.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Janet’s eyes welled up. The sheikh raised his eyebrows. “Why are you crying?” He looked so concerned; it broke Janet’s heart.
“I ran away af...after that. I…I...never went back to work and moved away from Corpus Christi.” Janet’s voice trembled as she spoke. Tears flowed down her cheeks. The sheikh moved closer to her and held her shoulders.
“You did the right thing,” he said to her. Janet shook her head.
“This morning, Sanaa crawled into my bed.”
“She did?” The sheikh raised an eyebrow. “She never sleeps with anyone, not even me.”
“She told me about the day…her mother…died.” Janet was struggling to say the words out loud, but she knew that she had to.
“She did?”
