It’s late when I leave the office. I told Zach all I knew, but I don’t have any information on meetings between Armen and Malik. He doesn’t usually tell me anything. I only know where he’s been when he returns after those days and nights because he’s in a mood then. I feel his self-hatred coming off him whenever he comes home, and Zach’s words ring in my ears.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

I don’t want to believe it. Or maybe I just don’t want to admit he’s right. That I don’t know how far Armen would go if he found out. I don’t know if his loyalty to Malik is stronger than blood.

Zach’s easy to talk to. I think he tried hard to make me feel relaxed, but that’s an impossibility. I can’t relax until I know Armen is safe. He offered to drive me home, but I declined. I like walking in the city and our house is only about a mile outside of it. But I know he’s following me. I can feel it, even though when I look over my shoulder, I can’t see him in the crowd. I like knowing he’s watching. For some reason, I feel safer for it.

I get to the house and notice Armen’s car is still gone. That’s not unusual so I unlock the door and walk inside. Since mom and dad died, the house feels different, bigger almost. Then when Seth and Rafi disappeared, it got empty. Hollow. Like it too was missing them. Waiting for them to walk in the front door.

I glance at the street once more before I close the door and lock it. Walking through the large living room, I make a point of not looking up at the frescoed ceiling my mom loved so much, and go into the kitchen. I put on the tea kettle and make myself a sandwich. I need to eat something, even though I don’t feel like it. I’m still too anxious, worked up over what I did. I’ve set things into motion now that I can’t undo. I’ve given information to the Americans, and although they may have already had it, I betrayed my brother. My reasons for doing it don’t matter. I’ve gone against my own blood, even though my intention is to preserve what’s left of it.

Once the kettle whistles, I make myself a cup of tea and carry it up to my room. It’s the first one at the top of the stairs. I don’t look at all the other closed doors there. All the rooms that stand empty. I go into my own and push the window open to look up at the darkening sky, drink the first sip of scalding hot tea. The phone in my pocket feels heavy. It’s the one Zach gave me. I glance at my closed door once as I sit on the edge of my bed and pull it out. It’s old, I can tell, and it’s used, but whatever information was in it before has been wiped out because now, there’s only one number programmed inside it. His. Just Zach. Not his title, not his last name.

I’m to call him if I feel unsafe at any time. I know he’s worried Armen will hurt me if he finds out what I’m doing, but he’s wrong. Armen’s my brother. He wouldn’t hurt me.

Zach asked me about Armen’s office. About any paperwork he leaves lying around. He asked me to take photos of whatever I find, even if it doesn’t make sense to me.

My stomach feels heavy with the thought of what I’m about to do, but I finish my tea and get to my feet. I take a deep breath and pocket the phone as I head downstairs to Armen’s office. The door isn’t locked. He trusts me to keep out. It takes me a full minute to come to terms with what I’m about to do. I push the door open and switch on the lamp. He keeps the navy curtains closed here. This room never gets any sunlight or fresh air, and it smells like cigarettes. Like stale smoke.

The first thing I do when I walk around the large desk is dump the ashtray full of butts and ashes in the trashcan. He picked up the habit about four months ago and I can’t stand it.

He’s taken his laptop with him so I don’t have to go through that. He usually takes it and when he doesn’t, he hides it. Maybe he’s suspected my betrayal all along. Maybe his instincts tell him to keep the computer hidden from me.

I touch the yellow pad of paper with his chicken scratch on it. I’m not sure how they’ll make anything out of it, but I snap photos. I flip to the next page and do the same. Once I have all the pages photographed, I open a drawer. It’s empty apart from two pens, some sticky notes still wrapped in plastic, and a half-full pack of cigarettes. A lighter is tucked inside.

I open another one. This one contains loose pieces of paper. Some are torn, some have coffee rings on them. I can’t tell how old they are or how important. I try the next drawer and find the same thing. He must keep everything and it’s all a mess. I close it and open the bottom right one. When I do, I step back, gasping, surprised by what’s inside.

A shiny, black revolver.

I know he has one. I’ve seen it in its holster beneath the jacket he wears thinking he’s hiding it from me. The realization that he probably owns more than one strikes me then. He never leaves the house unarmed anymore.

Tentatively, I touch it. It’s cool and hard, and for some reason, I pick it up. Feel its weight. Look at it. And I realize it’s not unused and that thought makes me drop it back down like it’s a brand. I quickly close the drawer, shove it hard when it gets stuck. I want it out of my sight. I want to be out of this room. I don’t want to know what he’s done with that gun. Who he’s hurt.

I go back up to my room and hide the phone under my pillow before stripping off my clothes and running a hot shower. I feel dirty. I feel…bad. But I haven’t felt good in a long time and if doing this will get my brother back safely, then I have to do it. I have to feel bad for a little longer because for some reason, I trust Zach. I know he’ll help me.

* * *

The following week, I go to the same office, but this time, I use the door at the back of the building in an alley. The soldier who had stood guard at the other door is at this one today, but he’s not alone. There’s another one with him and from the first moment, I don’t like him. It’s the way he looks at me as I pass. The way I feel his eyes on me when the other soldier walks me to the office where I was the first time. Once again I’m seated in that big room with only the table and two chairs. I place the cell phone on the table when the soldier leaves and today, it’s only a few minutes before Zach comes in carrying a laptop.

“Right on time,” he says with a smile. His eyes slide over the phone before meeting mine. “Let’s take a look at what you found.”

Zack picks up the phone and quickly scrolls through the photographs. He smiles, nods to me, then opens the laptop and attaches the phone to it with a cable. Several minutes pass before he speaks.

“These are difficult to read, but good,” he says.

I know they’re not what he’s looking for. “I wasn’t sure what you’d want. What was important.”

He closes the laptop and gives me his full attention. “Anything you find, even if you’re not sure how or what it is, could be important. These men use secret codes of communication—”

“These men? My brother isn’t—”

“The men your brother is currently working with, well, you said yourself they’re…not good.”

I just sit there not knowing what to say.

“I’m going to send these to our specialist. He’ll look through them carefully and hopefully, there’s something useful in them. Now, were you careful?”

“Yes.”

“Armen doesn’t know you took these?”

“No.”

“Good.”

He rises to his feet. I do the same, feeling embarrassed. Disappointed. “We’ll meet again next week.” He reaches into his pocket, withdraws a folded sheet of paper that he reads over once before handing it to me. “We’ll meet at this address. It’s a public place. Do you know where it is?”

“Yes.” It’s a coffee shop on the other side of the city.

“Same day and time.”

“Okay.” I take a step to the door but he strides over before I reach it. His hand closes around my arm to stop me. The touch is gentle, but deliberate. I look down to where he’s holding me and when I look up, his head is bowed and I meet his gaze through his thick lashes.

“You did good, Eve.”

I study his eyes, the smile inside them. The reassurance. I know the information is useless, but I find myself smiling.

“I’ll get something better next time. I’ll look harder.”

“Most importantly, be safe.”

“I will.”