The moment Nicole closed the front door behind her, Ahmed rolled his suitcases from the den into the foyer, four of them, all hefty. He’d dressed quite well in America and he wasn’t ready to abandon his cherished suits for Arab jellabiya. His manner of travel—private plane—imposed no luggage restrictions so he might as well take whatever he could. But while Nicole had been in the house, he hadn’t been able to get to Alex’s things. So, while his son finished breakfast, Ahmed tore through the boy’s room, throwing clothes into a large duffel bag, followed by a few games, and a couple of stuffed animals. He finished in under five minutes.

By now, Nicole would have reached the hospital. She’d be in her professional zone, thinking about her patients, running though the operative steps for her procedures. He’d seen her case for today on the schedule, a complicated repair that would require bone grafts and surgical screws to restore the patient’s face, make it presentable again. He had to admit, his wife always was more prepared for surgery than he. He’d decide what cuts he wanted to make once the patient was on the table, knocked out, and helpless. Opposite altogether from Nicole who mapped out strategies in her head and sorted through them until she had definitive action plan: opening cut; order of musculature attack; order of technique to isolate the nerves, the arteries. He was too intuitive for that, more of an artist, an impressionist, never burdened by a plan.

He figured he could count on her distraction until at least midafternoon. By then, any intervention attempt would be too late. So far this morning he and Alex had been best buddies. Now to put that chumminess to the test. After Alex finished eating, Ahmed sent him to brush his teeth. He’d left everything intact in the child’s bathroom. While Alex was occupied, he loaded the Mercedes C Class, filling both the ample trunk and back seat of his car.

“What are you doing, Daddy?” Alex’s eyes widened, as he stood at the open front door of the car.

“Daddy has a big surprise for you today, son.”

The boy’s eyes lit up. What kid doesn’t love a surprise?

“We are going on a trip. We’re taking an airplane—”

“Where?” the child asked, starting to shrink back. Ahmed did not want a scene. He was prepared to control Alex, if need be, with a sedative, but he’d try for voluntary cooperation. He wanted them to conform to the happy father-son image. No hysterics.

“We are going to the airport—”

“I’m supposed to go to school. I have different colors in my new crayon box.”

“Plans have changed, Alex.”

“Does Mommy know?”

“Of course, Mommy knows. She’s coming too. She just had to go to the hospital first. To take care of her patients just like Mommy always does.”

“But she didn’t say . . .”

“You know how grownups always talk about important things at night. Well, Mommy and Daddy talked about it last night. While you were asleep. We agreed.”

“Really?” Alex asked, shrinking back a little farther. So, he didn’t believe his own father. That would stop soon enough. No more Nicole’s “mama’s boy”.

“Yes. Now we must go so we can meet her at the airport. This is going to be a wonderful adventure. You are going to get to see many of your relatives that you haven’t seen yet.”

Alex was always asking to go see his grandma and grandpa, aunts and uncles, and cousins who lived “far away”. And to give Nicole credit, she’d patiently explained to their son that Daddy’s family lived in Egypt, making a trip there seem enticing. That reminded Ahmed: he had to switch from Alex to Wati.

“We are?” He sounded excited now, a gleam replacing wariness in his eyes.

Ahmed struggled to keep up the kid-style conversation in the car. He tried to count different colored cars with Alex, all while tormented by thoughts of leaving Philadelphia forever, his plastic surgery practice, his home, his friends, his comfortable lifestyle. Worse still, the searing sensation in his heart, a part of himself torn away. CanI leave Nicole? Like this? Taking her son? Her precious, irreplaceableson. Her consuming love. Can I do that to her?

At Philadelphia International Airport, Ahmed drove right by Atlantic Aviation, had to circle back. In the parking lot, he cut the engine of the Mercedes that he’d never see again and slumped over the wheel. Am I doing the right thing?

What if I tell my father “no”? I can still stop this. Drive Alex home. Tell Nicole I’m sorry. Hold her in my arms. Run my fingers though her soft, shimmering hair. Caress her. Embrace her. Feel her body press against mine. Stretch her out beneath me in our bed. With Nicole, I can defy my family, stay in the U.S. We can let Alex chose between Islam and Christianity once he is old enough. Nicole and I always said: if there’s one God, there’s one God; no matter what roads lead to Him.

Ahmed’s hand went to the ignition. He turned the switch and the Mercedes’ engine purred to life.

“Daddy, there’s a man coming over. He’s got a uniform on.”

A cop? But passengers flying private planes could park here, Ahmed was sure.

When he looked up he saw hurrying toward them a well-built Arab man dressed in a dark blue suit with an insignia he didn’t recognize. Leaving the engine running, he opened the driver’s side window.

“Are you Dr. Masud?” the speech heavily accented.

Ahmed nodded. He needed to return home, to Nicole, to make things right with her. He’d all but decided. Everything in him cried out, “Go home. Take your boy home.”

“Come with me, sir. I am your attendant. Your flight is ready to go. You must come with me. I will have someone handle your luggage. Come.”

The Arab man tried to open the locked car door.

“Unlock the door, Doctor. Turn off the engine.” Spoken in Arabic. In a commanding tone.

Ahmed turned the ignition key to the off position. Hesitating only an instant, he unlocked the car doors.

“Take your son and follow me,” authoritative, in English now.

Still, Ahmed sat. I’m at the crossroads of my life. I must decide. Can I defy my father? Am I strong enough?

“Daddy, that man says we have to go now. Mommy must be waiting inside.”

The child started to get out of the back seat, lugging his panda bookbag.

I am past the point of no return.

Ahmed climbed out of the Mercedes, grabbed his son’s arm, and stood by the car. In the distance, he could see the gleam of an aircraft, recognized the Egyptian tail code SU. Just as his father had said, the plane that would take him and Alex to Cairo. He wasn’t sure how long he stood, feet planted next to the warm engine of the Mercedes, his left hand clutching Alex’s arm, before the large man took hold of his right elbow and led him away.

“Doctor, we have to enter through this building.” The self-appointed flight attendant gestured to the Atlantic Aviation building and led the way. Ahmed knew the terminal well. Nicole’s brother Patrick and his wife had their own plane and often lent it out to family members. His brother-in-law Rob had part-owned a NetJet plane until the real estate business tanked.

“Daddy,” Alex looked from side to side. “I don’t see Mommy.”

Alex stopped walking as did Ahmed to avoid stretching the child’s arm, but their escort continued. Despite Alex’s squeal of pain, the big man kept a firm hold on Ahmed’s arm, dragging them forward.

“We must hurry, Doctor,” the man said, unyielding.

Ahmed was now committed. No backing out. He was heading toward the plane. With Alex—Wati. As his father had decreed.

To the Arab, whom he’d begun to consider his captor, he said, “Let go of me. I will handle my son.” With a jerk, he extricated his arm.

Turning to Alex, bending down to eye level, he said, “Son, everything will be okay.”

Alex looked at him with eyes frightened and trusting at once. “Okay, Daddy,” he said.

Hand in hand, Ahmed and Alex followed the attendant into the building.

“Maybe she’s on the airplane already,” Alex was saying when Ahmed reached down to help him with the bookbag.

“Come. We’ll see,” Ahmed said, looking up to see a tall, well-dressed man with a shaved head coming from the tarmac, walking his way. Distracted, Ahmed at first did not recognize him. No greetings were exchanged, but the man nodded to him. Then he remembered. His sister-in-law’s boss. Barney Black, the Keystone Pharma CEO.