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“Which makes it even better,” he said. Dooley is a big fan of soap operas, and there was a touch of the outlandish about the story Loretta was telling. No wonder Gran was also listening with rapt attention, as she, too, is a soap aficionado.

“So shortly before their one-year wedding anniversary, things came to a head. By this time it had become clear to my mother that her husband had no intention of keeping the promises he made. Those ninety-eight other wives were still very much established at the palace, and weren’t going anywhere. Quite the contrary, in fact. The palace was abuzz with rumors of a coup mother wanted to stage against the Sheikh, rumors designed to drive a wedge between the couple. The Sheikh spent less and less time in my mother’s quarters, and slept less and less in the spousal bed, opting to spend his nights with his other wives, in other parts of the palace, where she wasn’t even allowed to go. She was slowly being sidelined, and that wasn’t the life she’d chosen for herself, or the baby she was carrying. Worse, her passport had been taken away by palace officials, and she’d been forbiddento leave, allegedly for her own safety, but it was clear she was now a prisoner rather than the person in charge of the royal household. She wasn’t even allowed to talk to her parents anymore, who’d returned to the States, or her old friends, and things looked more and more dire.”

“Oh, dear,” said Marge, clasping a hand to her face. “This is the part of the book I haven’t read yet,” she explained when all eyes turned to her. “But please go on.”

“Yes, please go on,” said the Sheikh, who looked stunned by this story—clearly a story nobody had ever told him.

“So the day my mother was supposed to give birth finally arrived, and word had reached her ears that the other wives had arranged for her baby to be smothered in its cradle.”

“What?!” Marge cried, shooting upright. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, settling down again. “Don’t mind me.”

“They felt that a new heir would jeopardize their position to such an extent it was better to get rid of the child altogether. So mother was desperate, especially since she had no one she could turn to—no one who could help. But then salvation came in the form of two men who worked for a large hydroelectric project. Their names were Craig Bantam and Kenneth Cesseki and they were both Americans. She’d seen them walking in the palace garden with the Sheikh, and so one day she managed to sneak a message to one of the men, Craig, and arranged to meet him in secret in the garden, and explained her predicament. Craig, who must have had a noble heart, promised her he’d do what he could, and so she met him in secret several times more, and gradually a plan was hatched to help her escape the palace, along with the baby, so no harm could be done to either mother or child.”

“And you’re saying that my father was complicit in all of this?” asked the Sheikh, who still looked stunned.

“I don’t know if he was complicit, or if he simply didn’t want to know what was going on, but he certainly didn’t listen to my mother, and didn’t arrange for her to be taken to safety, or punish the people conspiring against her,” said Loretta, who’d folded her hands in her lap, and was telling her story serenely, clearly glad to finally get it out. “So my mother had given birth, and had watched my cradle day and night, to prevent anything happening to me, and the day finally arrived that Craig and Kenneth were to smuggle my mother out of the palace, along with me, but something went wrong. Both men were arrested and subsequently deported. Also, my mother had become violently ill during the night, and had to be taken to the hospital. She died later that day.”

“I’m so sorry,” said Odelia.

“But Craig and Kenneth had arranged for a palace servant, one of the rare ones loyal to my mother, to set the plan in motion regardless of what happened to its protagonists. And this brave servant managed to smuggle me out of the palace, and drove me out of the country, across the border into Khamsin, and from there I was flown to safety in America, where Craig proceeded to hand me to my grandmother and grandfather. They were devastated to learn of the death of their only daughter, but happy to be able to take care of me. And they raised me,” she said simply.

“And told you the story of what happened,” Odelia supplied.

Loretta nodded.“They told me on my eighteenth birthday. Until that moment I had no idea who my mother was, or even what had actually happened to her. My grandparents had always told me they were my parents, until they decided the time had come to tell me the truth.”

“But… what happened to the Pink Lady?” asked Gran.