Empire of Lies

19

Nisreen had dinner with Tarek and Noor—her special artichoke, lamb, and coriander stew, a family favorite and the kind of comfort food she badly needed tonight.

They ate as they always did, at the square table in their kitchen. The French tradition of eating that way, using individual plates and utensils, had survived the conquest and resisted the encroachment of the old Ottoman tradition of sharing food from a central bowl with one’s fingers while sitting on cushions on the floor.

Noor was unusally chirpy, which was a welcome deflection from the unease gnawing away at Nisreen. She’d sent a text message to Ramazan earlier, asking when he’d be back, and he’d said that he was working late again, which only added to the distress she felt after seeing Kamal. What she’d seen in his internet search history was still worrying her, and she even wondered if her husband really was at the hospital after all or if he was involved in something else. Which then gave way to an even more uncomfortable thought: the coincidence of Kamal showing up now. Surely not, she thought. She had her misgivings about him, but she knew that she could still read him and still believed in the goodness at his core.

Or did she?

The children put away the plates. Then she gave them their baths, and they were ready for bed.

“Are you okay, anneh?” Tarek asked as she tucked him in.

She pulled out as comforting a smile as she could. “Of course, hayatim. Why?”

He hesitated, then asked, “Why don’t we ever see Uncle Kamal anymore?”

She struggled for words. “It’s just… he’s very busy these days. That’s all.”

Tarek nodded. “The guys in class… they were saying what a big hero he is. But you and baba don’t seem to be happy when people mention his name.”

Nisreen let out a ragged breath. “It’s not that simple, hayatim. Maybe when you’re older, you’ll understand.”

“But he’s a hero, isn’t he?”

She wasn’t sure how to answer that. But there was only one answer she could give him. “Of course he is.”

Tarek looked at her uncertainly, doubt clouding his face, then nodded.

Nisreen leaned in and kissed his forehead. “Sleep well, my little şampiyon.”

At the ICU nurses’ station, Ramazan handed in the last of his paperwork and checked his watch.

It was late. Very late. But he couldn’t pull away. Not yet. There was more story to come, and tonight might be the last chance he would have to get the rest of it.

All day, he’d kept wondering if it could really be true, if he’d allowed his desperation and his imagination to push him to such a level of foolhardiness as to have done what he’d done. Wondering if it was all going to backfire on him like a big, bad joke, one that, if it ever came out, might turn him into an object of ridicule, if not cost him his career.

He wasn’t sure. Still, he’d come this far. He couldn’t leave the rest of it unanswered.

“All done, hakeem?” Anbara asked as she emerged from the hallway. She was obviously doing the night shift.

“Yes, pretty much.” He smiled.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” She gave him a little wave and headed off.

He waited for her to disappear from view, nodded vaguely at the nurse sitting behind the counter, then walked away in the opposite direction.

Back to room 7, which housed a very special and unusual patient.