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had chosen a garment most severe in style
covered up to the neck.
    Since our faith regards the
love of jewelry and ornaments as natural and becoming for a woman,
if they are not used to attract men and arouse their sexual
desires, Amani could hardly object to my wishes that she wear
beautiful jewels that night. I had reminded my pious daughter of
what she already knew—other than Hadi, his attendant, her Uncle
Ali, and a man of religion, no men would be present at our
gathering. Once she agreed that her faith did permit her to wear
precious stones free of guilt, Amani selected a charming ruby and
diamond necklace which had been cleverly fashioned to resemble a
cluster of sparkling flowers.
    Admittedly, both my
daughters were lovely, and on any other occasion, I would have been
proud to display them.
    When Maha and Amani
gathered with female cousins near their own age, I left them and
wandered alone into the vast hall.
    The music was so loud and
the singer so shrill that I could only liken the sound to shrieks
of terror! Or was this just my imagination?
    I winced. A pillar of light
shone overhead. Such an overabundance of lighting had created a
blinding effect. At Ali’s behest, special decorators flown in from
Egypt had covered the entire surface of the ceiling with brightly
colored lights. Looking around the room, I was astonished at the
gaudiness of the decorations. The room overflowed with lights,
while garish vessels overflowed with gold-foiled wrapped candy.
Velvet swags with no obvious purpose hung from the
ceiling.
    Great cascades of floral
arrangements were suspended from gold painted columns, set atop
tables, and even attached to the walls. But the flowers were
arranged haphazardly with no particular design or color theme. Red
roses were bunched with yellow daises, while lilac orchids were
linked with blue carnations. The garishly decorated platform where
Hadi and Munira would view, and be viewed by the wedding guests was
covered with blinking green and red lights!
    I was so absorbed in this
expensive but tasteless display that I did not see Sara come
forward from the swarming throng. A gentle arm went around my
waist. “Sultana.” “Sara,” I smiled, “Thanks be to God you found
me.”
    With a disapproving look,
Sara nodded at the scene around us. “On this night I am embarrassed
to be my brother’s sister.”
    “ For more reasons than the
décor, I too am ashamed,” I agreed.
    “ I wish I had helped you
hide Munira,” Sara admitted.
    “ Truly?” I
gasped.
    “ Yes. Our two hearts are as
one on this issue.”
    I embraced my sister and
tried comfort her as she comforted me.
    “ You were right not to
encourage me, Sara. Ali would have sifted the very sands of the
desert to find his daughter and hand her over to Hadi.”
    I sighed in sad
resignation. “There can be no escape for the daughter of such a
man.”
    Hand in hand, Sara and I
began making our way through the room, greeting many aunts and
cousins while we looked for our sisters.
    Before the time arrived for
Munira to make her appearance, all ten daughters of our beloved
Mother, Fadeela, had assembled in a circle.
    But there was no joy among
us. Each sister was greatly saddened by the reason for our reunion.
Following Mother’s death, Nura, the eldest daughter, had with our
consent assumed the rank of leader of the sisters. She was the
steadfast figure who often guided her younger sisters’ paths by
pointing out the reality of our lives. Stoic and strong, it would
seem that Nura, of all the sisters, had attained mastery over her
emotions. But on this evening, even Nura was subdued with sorrow.
She had accompanied us to Egypt when Hadi’s true character had
become known by our family. Unlike many gathered there, she knew
the corruption of the soul of the man who would soon possess
Munira.
    “ This is a sad, sad night,”
Nura muttered with her eyes fixed on the wedding dais.
    Sara shuddered at the night
she knew that lay ahead of Munira. She