“He said he was your cousin. Said there had been a misunderstanding years ago. Said you were too hurt to talk to family.”
“He is not my cousin.”
“He said you’d panic if I told you too fast.”
I laughed then.
A terrible sound.
“And so you introduced him to our daughter?”
“He seemed kind.”
Kind.
The same word people always used for monsters before the truth came out.
I leaned over the table.
“Do you know who Samir is?”
Kareem swallowed.
“No.”
I had never told him everything.
I told him I left an abusive family.
I told him a relative hurt me.
I told him I needed distance.
I never told him that when I was nineteen, Samir ran a network that recruited girls with fake jobs, then trapped them in apartments and sold their passports.
I never told him I was one of them.
I never told him I escaped by jumping from a second-floor balcony and breaking my ankle.
I never told him three girls who stayed behind were never found.
I never told him I testified under another name.