There were nods of agreement. Hena bit back a laugh. Her sister had never ironed an outfit in her life. If someone needed any pressing done, Khaled better know how.
Courtney peered over Irum’s shoulder to read the next one.
“ ‘Never go to bed angry.’ ”
“The next one says the opposite,” Irum added. “ ‘Hold your temper before bed. Once words are spoken, they cannot be unsaid.’ ”
“Absolutely,” said Auntie Hanifa. “Cooler heads always prevail in the morning.”
Hena couldn’t believe she agreed with Auntie Hanifa. She supposed even a broken clock was right twice a day.
Courtney and Irum continued to alternate reading. The advice was mostly standard: the importance of date nights, communication. Hena yawned—her late night with Reza was catching up to her. She would need a nap soon.
When Courtney flipped to the next page, she paused.
“Huh. It says, ‘Invest in a good tracker for Khaled. The worst thing you can do is misplace your husband, and we all know disappearances run in the family.’ ”
Misplace your husband.
The words hit Hena like a gut punch.
Auntie Nipa and Auntie Hanifa covered their mouths and gasped in mock horror. Murmurs spread.
Poor Courtney looked out of the loop, but no one else wasconfused. Their expressions said it all: disdain, smugness, delight. These women had never left high school behind.
“Excuse me.”
Irum. She was standing, shoulders rigid. A hush fell over the audience. Her lower lip trembled as she glared at the crowd.
“My brother is missing. It’s not a joke,” she said. “To treat our pain like—” She choked back a sob. Wordlessly, she raced into the resort.
The crowd fell silent as Lulu rose.
“Irum is right,” Lulu told the women. “That was awful. We’re already navigating a wedding while handling a difficult family health matter. Let’s do better. Please.”
Auntie Hanifa and Auntie Nipa visibly bristled at Lulu’s lecture, but the others seemed to wilt against her scolding, properly chastened.
Hena clenched her jaw. How could these people not understand that their words didn’t just hurt her? She wasn’t the only one who’d lost Nasir. His absence was more than a punch line.
She returned to her table, grabbed her clutch, and slipped into the resort. The sooner she got back to her room, the better.
Passing the lobby, she glimpsed the men’s party through the floor-to-ceiling windows as the football game blared in the background. Her heart leapt when she saw Reza at the front desk. He was chatting with Lucinda. Mansur, another groomsman, was by his side. Something Reza said made both of them laugh before Mansur slapped Reza’s back and headed outside.
Lucinda spotted Hena. She waved.
“Ms. Mirza, is everything to your liking so far?” she asked.
“Call me Hena. And everything is great, thank you.”
The brown-haired man from the fondue bar, who had initially taken her luggage, hurried over to Lucinda to confer about a parking snafu as she handed Reza a first aid kit.
“Hope you’re better in no time,” Lucinda told him.
“What happened?” Hena asked Reza.
“Just a little burn.” He held out his right hand. An angry red mark ran along the side of his palm.
Hena winced. “What’s going on at this party?”