All In by Gabra Zackman

dark eyes. “We’ve been expecting you,” she said.
    “We?” Chas asked.
    “Yes,” Amal replied. “This is a safe house for women who have run from their husbands in Morocco, some from situations that were quite violent. We pay for their passage to Johannesburg and give them as much time as they need here; we also house their children if they can get them out. Mahmoud didn’t tell you? He is the main reason why we have the ability to do this. He coordinates everything and funds it as well.”
    “My God,” Susannah breathed. “I had no idea.”
    “Yes,” Amal said. “A remarkable man. His own parents were quite wonderful, but apparently, his sister was in a situation of abuse he couldn’t bear. She died before he could get her out and decided to do this in her honor. Follow me.”
    Susannah and Chas reached for each other’s hands as they followed Amal down a long corridor. As they walked down the hall, they spied women in each room, and some children, who smiled as they walked past. Some were clearly wary, for obvious reasons. But some looked at them with warmth in their eyes.
    Amal opened the door to a small room near the back of the house. It had wooden eaves and simple decor that reminded Susannah of her Grand-mère’s country house in France. Tiled paintings of rustic imagery lined the walls: roosters, a milk jug, a peasant couple and their horses. There was a tin can in the corner that held a bunch of dried flowers; an old painted wooden window frame was used as decoration on one side of the room. The feeling was homey, safe, and peaceful, and at once Susannah felt calm.
    Amal smiled at them. “I’ve prepared a small meal for you in our kitchen. Please join us for dinner if you’d like, or feel free to spend the night in here. I’m sure you must be tired after traveling so much. And I know this is a poor substitute for a honeymoon, but Mahmoud and Jackson wanted to make sure you were taken care of, so we made up the most private room for you. Enjoy your evening—I am here for anything you might need.”
    Susannah choked up with tears and couldn’t find her voice. It was too much. There were so many people being so kind to her, and she was already in such a vulnerable state because of her father. Chas glanced at her and spoke for them both. “This is more than we expected and is generous beyond compare. Thank you, Amal. I promise we will repay your kindness.”
    Amal laughed. “There is no need. Mahmoud has already done so and continues to. We owe him so much that I was so happy he asked me for a favor! This space is yours for as long as you need it.” And with that, she closed the door behind her.
    Chas took Susannah in his arms. “It’s one heck of a honeymoon, Legs. You’ve got to admit that.”
    “ Almost honeymoon,” she said through her tears. “You’re not gonna get out of marrying me for real, you know.”
    Chas laughed deeply, and she could feel the bass thrum in his chest with her cheek. “Oh, sweetheart, I wouldn’t dream of it.”
    ‡‡‡
    ROBERT SMITH HAD decided to turn over a new leaf and was taking a cooking class. Italian cooking, to be exact. He was more the TV-dinner type, but he wanted to impress Gabriella. And he had a vague recollection that her favorite dish was eggplant parmigiana. He was at a class in a fancy New York City loft, wanting to be far enough away that no one from work would see him. As an added bonus, he was taking an afternoon class, so it was him and a bunch of bachelorettes wanting to impress their husbands-to-be. Everyone else thought he was at a meeting in Quantico. Wonderful thing, having his level of clearance: He could fly wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and never had to answer to anyone. He could also make people adapt to his schedule at a moment’s notice. The “very important meeting at FBI HQ” was actually a phone call that happened early this morning and gave him full jurisdiction over the training program at Quantico for