Free The Illumination by Karen Tintori Page B

will do whatever you ask—anything!” he begged. “Tell me what you want.”
    â€œWhat I want? I want you dead,” Hasan whispered slowly in the stench of the alley.
    Yusef’s heart raced in his great chest. “Please. I am worth more to you alive than dead. I can help you find the Eye of Dawn. I will not sleep, I will not rest, until—”
    The blade slashed downward into his right hand, nearly severing it with the first blow. Yusef’s screams circled through the dank air of the alley. But only for a moment. As he bent to clasp his dangling hand, the Iranian plunged the scimitar into the back of Yusef’s neck.
    It took but three furious strokes to drown the screams, reducing them to gurgles.

13
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    Natalie had no idea how she made it through the first night of shivah, the initial period of mourning. The day had seemed interminable. And by the time the
ma’ariv,
the evening prayer service, concluded, and people began to ebb away like shadows of which she was only vaguely aware, her head was throbbing. There had been so many people, so many stories about Dana. Dana as a cautious tow-headed child, as her high school’s klutziest cheerleader, as a surprisingly mature journalist gutsy enough to shout her reports above the thunder of bombs exploding around her.
    But no one else knew Dana the way Natalie did. As the kid sister who’d giggled uncontrollably when their
zayde
had hidden the
afikomen
in the toilet tank one year at the Passover seder. The sister who’d covered for Natalie when she got drunk at a friend’s high school party. The sister who’d clung to her in numb shock after the sudden death of their parents.
    And the sister who’d known for months that Natalie’s fiancé had cheated on her, but had kept it from her until Natalie had been struck in the face with the truth herself, when she’d rushed home early from an anthropology conference. She’d sailed in, ready to jump Adam’s bones, only to find him in their tiny aqua-tiled shower stall slowly lathering the ditzy single mom who lived downstairs.
    Dana had known. She’d seen them together having dinner, snuggling. But Adam had sworn to her it didn’t mean anything—it would never happen again. And Dana had kept his secret—leaving me in the dark.
    Natalie remembered too well the rage and humiliation that had consumed her when Dana confessed to keeping silent. Natalie had felt more betrayed by Dana than by Adam. Now, twisting a cocktail napkin ever tighter in her grip, she wished she could erase the harsh words she’d hurled at her sister and swallow back the unchecked anger that had led to their estrangement.
God, if only I could take back those months that stretched without a word between us and fill them with everything we’ll never get the chance to say.
    â€œNatalie—Natalie?”
    She jerked herself from her reverie. Jim D’Amato had taken the seat beside her on the sofa. His expression was apologetic. In the kitchen a few feet away, she could hear Aunt Leonora washing the platters that had held sliced tomatoes, onion, tuna salad, and bagels. She was surprised to discover everyone else had gone.
    â€œSorry, I missed what you said. I was just thinking about Dana . . .” She shook her head and attempted a smile. “Of course I was, what else would I be thinking about?”
    â€œDana was one of the good ones.” He offered a half smile. “And I don’t mean just professionally, but personally, too. She had the open heart of a child and the courage of a Marine. Everyone who ever knew her will miss her.”
    â€œThank you.” Natalie met his gaze, expecting him to say good night, but he remained seated. Once again she sensed that there was something else he wanted to say.
    â€œYou know something about her killer, don’t you?” she guessed suddenly. “Have they caught