Kinza and Mitra fell into the living room amid a mound of shopping bags.
“I’m so tired,” Mitra mumbled into the carpet.
“And hungry,” Kinza replied.
“Baby, what do you need all this for?” Grams exclaimed as she came in from the kitchen. “You needed what? One dress? Some shoes?” She waved her arms around at the bags. “Did you need a new wardrobe?”
“Okay,” Mitra said, rolling over. “But she needed options. Gotta dazzle, right?” she said.
Kinza sat up. “Where are Zaid and Haris?”
Grams sunk into an armchair. “They went to run a few errands this morning. Said they needed to ‘scope the place out’ or something like that. Zaid thinks the gala is a trap.”
Kinza snorted. “How does he figure that?” she said, fiddling with a curl.
“He thinks Tahir has already gotten to Edmund Clark, and they
