Page 13 of Rescuing You

The figure barreled into her.

And wrapped her in a hug.

Leila’s body reacted before her brain caught up, her eyes filling with tears.

Yasamin.

“You’re alive. Oh, thank God.” Leila’s twin sister backed away just enough to peer at Leila’s face. “All these years I’ve worried, wondering if you made it. It’s been awful, not knowing.”

“I’m sorry, I should have⁠—”

“No, no. You couldn’t.”

Leila studied her twin, taking in the familiar features. They’d once been identical, so alike they could even fool their parents. Sometimes, anyway.

But the years had changed them both. Leila knew she looked older, but Yasamin’s once glowing skin was yellowish, her cheeks sunken.

Beneath her sister’s tunic and loose pants, she was too thin. “Are you sick?” Because what else would explain the gaunt appearance?

“It’s nothing.” Yasamin waved off the words with a flick of her hand. They sat on the bed, side by side, each with one knee bent up so they could face each other. Mirror images, as if nothing had changed. “Did you make that crash I heard earlier? When I saw you, I came straight over. And then the noise…I told Baba it was me. That I’d been looking for something.”

“So he’s not coming?” In the joy of seeing her sister, Leila had forgotten to worry about the footsteps, the people looking for her. She strained to hear, but the house was quiet again.

“How are you here?” Yasamin squeezed her hands, holding on as if fearing Leila might drift away. “What happened?”

“I was in Munich, and they just…” She didn’t describe the moment she’d been grabbed in the alley outside the hotel where she lived and worked, and then shoved into the back of a van. She didn’t describe the way she’d been tied up and gagged. She didn’t share her terror or the certainty that she was about to die for her sins—or what they would perceive as sins. Converting to Christianity, escaping her family and her country for a life of freedom.

She’d fought her captors, trying desperately to get away, until the man had told her she could either cooperate or Yasamin would pay the price.

She remembered his face from her childhood. He was a friend of her father’s, but she’d always been afraid of him.

He didn’t seem the type to make idle threats.

No, Leila wouldn’t tell her sister any of that. Quiet, kind Yasamin didn’t need to feel guilty for something she couldn’t control.

“How did you find me?” Obviously, Baba hadn’t told her twin she was there, or she would have come sooner. “What did you mean, you saw me?”

“Hanging off the house like Spider-Man.” Her lips quirked. “Some things never change.”

“Hey, you did it too.”

“That one time. But I’ve grown older and smarter. You’re lucky nobody else saw you. And lucky you didn’t fall. And they didn’t catch you in the office.”

“I don’t understand. You weren’t in the courtyard.”

“I’ve been staying in the guest-house, the old place”—she gestured toward the window—“over there.” It was an ancient building on the opposite side of the courtyard, probably the original house. “Baba lets me stay there sometimes.”

“Why are we here? Is this Heba’s old house?” At her sister’s nod, she asked, “Where is she?”

“She and Mostafa live in his home. You remember?”

“Yes, but I don’t understand. Why are we here?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

The lack of answers was frustrating. “Why aren’t you in Baghdad with Baba and Mama?”

Yasamin leaned away, blinking. “Baba didn’t tell you?”