Page 56 of Rescuing You

The obvious opening spot was on the front. Nobody would realize there was a hinged side.

Pretty ingenious, actually.

When they finished that, they built a three-foot cube, which had a similar false front.

Michael sat back on his heels. “Am I acting as the second mover?” Please?

“Got a guy to help with that. Local. Name’s Omar.”

Michael flicked his gaze to the cube, then the wardrobe, and he got a sick feeling in his gut. He stood, not daring to look at the women when he asked, “You don’t plan to shove three grown adults into those two boxes. Right?”

Splat stood as well, facing the sisters.

They were standing in the living room, side by side, looking so much alike it was almost eerie. Same stance—one leg straight, the other bent. Same crossed arms. Same squinted eyes. Same pressed lips.

Splat gave them a once-over. “I have a nine-year-old nephew bigger than you two. Combined.”

Jasmine’s lips shifted into an almost-smile.

Leila wasn’t amused.

“What they lack in height,” Michael said, “I make up for in weight.”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything about that paunch, but…”

“I’m not kidding, Splat. This is the plan?”

The man leaned back against the kitchen counter, his expression sobering. “Soldiers are swarming the city—along with a bunch of rough-looking men—armed, I’d bet my life. Story is that the twin daughters of a high-ranking official have been kidnapped.”

Michael’s gaze flicked to Leila. “What official?”

“Above my pay grade.” He focused on the women. “We gotta get you out of the city, and we gotta do it without any of you being seen. I got a van downstairs filled with furniture. The story is we’re moving it from a city house to a country house. At the border⁠—”

“We can’t stay in a box until the border.” Michael wasn’t claustrophobic, but still…

“Once we’re out of the city, you can get out, as long as you can get back in fast.” Splat looked between the women. “Which one of you is sick?”

Jasmine said, “It is nothing.”

Leila glared at her.

“As soon as we’re out of Baghdad,” Splat said, “we’ll drop off Omar, and then you’ll come up and sit with me.” To Michael, “You have papers for her?”

“For Leila.”

Splat grinned. “Six of one, a half dozen the other, I think.”

“What is that?” Jasmine looked from one man to the other as if they’d switched to Swahili.

Leila flicked a hand toward them. “An expression. It means we’re interchangeable.”

“Not what I mean, ma’am,” Splat said. “Just that, since you’re identical, papers for one can be papers for the other, right?”

She nodded, but her gaze strayed back to the boxes. “Who will be where?”

Splat smacked the cube. “Jasmine.” He spoke to her, eyebrows hiked, ensuring he’d gotten the name right.

When she nodded, he continued.