Blink of an Eye Read Online Free PDF

of the car. “Please, get in. Sita, the wife of Hatam, has demanded to see you. Please, get in.”
    â€œIt’s okay,” Samir said under his breath. “Go.”
    Miriam broke from her stance and hurried for the large black Mercedes. She opened the rear left door and slid in next to the man, who’d seated himself without turning toward her.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?”
    The man slammed his door. “Silence.”
    Sita had called for her. Good news, then. Her husband would never allow his new bride to call for her friends if she was in trouble.
    They passed a large white mosque, and she watched the men walking through its gates. Islam was supported by five pillars, simple and beautiful, and, contrary to the more restrictive sharia laws, they did nothing to shackle women. Five pillars: The Creed: “There is no god but God and Muhammad is the messenger of God.” Daily prayers: upon rising, at noon, in midafternoon, after sunset, and before retiring. The annual Ramadan fast. The hajj pilgrimage to Mecca. Almsgiving to the poor.
    And a sixth to some, the jihad, as the situation warranted, to “spread Islam or defend against infidels.” This last pillar was no pillar at all to most Muslims, including Miriam, but it clearly motivated those few radical fundamentalists who’d taken up the sword in the name of God. Not unlike the Jews, who’d entered their so-called promised land by virtue of the sword.
    Only when the car pulled into a driveway did Miriam know their destination. The Mercedes pulled up to an expansive villa covered in bougainvillea. They were at Sita’s childhood home, which surprised her. Sita did not live here any longer.
    A dread seeped into her bones.
    The man faced her for the first time. She could see the reflection of her veil in his mirrored glasses. “Did you know that Sita’s new husband, Hatam, is a loyal member of the Nizari sect?”
    Nizari? She didn’t know the extreme Islamic sect still existed. Rumors of their activity made the Taliban of Afghanistan look reasonable by comparison.
    â€œAs is Sita’s father,” the man said. “It’s why they do so much business together. Remember what you see today. Consider it a message from Omar bin Khalid. Get out.”
    What the man meant, Miriam had no clue, but his words made her mouth dry.
    Who was Omar bin Khalid?
    She followed him, surrounded by silence, through an archway that opened to the green grounds she and Sita had walked so many times. An old swing set built of oak sat unused beneath several tall trees to their right. Palms swayed in a light morning breeze. Still no sound. If anyone from the family was here, there was no sign.
    The man led her around the side of the house instead of to the front door. They walked around the corner, toward the pool.
    Miriam saw them then. Four people standing on the pool’s deck. Sita, her father, and her veiled mother. And another man.
    Sita, too, was veiled in black, standing with her arms at her sides. What could this possibly—
    Miriam stopped, frozen to the concrete. The person standing next to Sita’s father was no relation to Sita, she saw that now. The tall thin man wore the white tunic of the religious police of Saudi Arabia, the mutawa , but a red cloth encircled his ghutra.
    From the Nizari sect as well, perhaps?
    Images of public beatings and humiliations recounted from days not so old flashed through Miriam’s mind. The sharia was a difficult law, but the ways of the extremist sects like the Nizari made even the most devout fundamentalists blanch.
    In that instant, Miriam knew her friend had kept her vow. Sita had refused her husband and would now pay a price.
    Oh, dear Sita! For a fleeting moment Miriam thought about running to her friend, taking her hand, and fleeing toward the fence. But Sita’s father, Musa, was a good man. Surely he was reasonable as well. The punishment would be his decision, not