destruction of George Saba’s home. “What’s this?”
“That belonged to my father. It was a gift to him from a friend of his who was a Christian priest. I gave it to George Saba many years ago. I rescued it from the ruins of his house.”
Nadia flipped the cover open and read the inscription to Omar Yussef’s father from his friend the Catholic priest. She smiled. “It’s a beautiful book,” she said. “I have to go to school now.” She kissed her grandfather again and left the house.
Omar Yussef watched Nadia pass outside the window, leaning forward under her pink backpack. There was a legacy, he thought, that might be found in detective work, just as much as in teaching. It was a mistake to believe that detection was a matter of figuring out what had happened in the past and then taking revenge for it. He understood now that it was about protecting the future from the people who committed evil and who would do so again.
Omar Yussef picked up the slip of paper with the U.N. phone number scrawled across it. His accountant had told him he had the money to retire from teaching if he wished. He looked at the message and dropped it on the coffee table next to George Saba’s Bible.
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
