Page 41 of Saving Noor

She smoothed Sammy’s hair again, a silent prayer of thanks forming on her lips. The guilt was still there, a heavy stone, but now it was tempered by a fierce, rekindled hope. This was a second chance. A fragile peace she would guard with every fiber of her being.

Sammy stirred, a soft groan escaping his lips. His eyelids fluttered open, blinking against the muted hospital light. His eyes, still slightly unfocused, found hers.

“Ummi?” he rasped, his voice rough. A small, weak smile touched his lips.

Noor leaned in, tears blurring her vision, a fierce, quiet joy flooding her heart. Link stepped closer, resting a hand on her shoulder. “We are here,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, her gaze flicking to Link, including him in the promise.

Link then stepped fully into Sammy’s line of sight, a rare, relieved smile on his face. “Hey, son. Good to see those eyes open.” He clapped Sammy lightly on his good leg. “Doctors say you’re cleared for discharge this afternoon. You’re heading back to the safe house with your mom and sisters.”

Sammy tried to push himself up, wincing as his cast shifted. “Really? Today?”

Link nodded. “Yep. And you won’t be alone. Bear flew in from Virginia to check on everyone. He’s probably already on the ground.” Link paused, letting Sammy absorb the news of Bear’s arrival. “And he didn’t come alone. He brought someone special for you, someone who’s been driving us all nuts asking about you.”

Sammy’s brow furrowed, then his eyes widened in surprise. “Rhys? Here?”

Link chuckled, a genuine, warm sound. “The one and only. He’s been dying to talk your ear off about drones. Figured you could use a familiar face, especially while the rest of us go through the debrief. Rhys can keep you and the girls entertained at the safe house.”

A wide, genuine grin spread across Sammy’s face, washing away some of the lingering pain and exhaustion. “Rhys,” he breathed, the name a lifeline from his normal life. The safe house, his family, and his best friend. For the first time since the crash, the weight of the past week seemed to lift, replaced by a surge of pure, uncomplicated happiness.

27 - NOOR

The safe house, a nondescript building tucked away in the sprawling Jordanian capital, hummed with a different kind of tension. It wasn’t the pre-mission quiet, nor the frantic chaos of the extraction. It was the heavy, almost suffocating silence of waiting, pierced by the bright, defiant sounds of childhood.

Her left arm still encased in plaster, her right restricted by a brace, and her ribs throbbing with a dull ache, a constant reminder of Faisal’s cruelty, her body screamed for rest, for immobility, but her mind was a restless whirlwind. She still couldn’t hold her daughters, couldn’t comfort them fully, and the frustration was a tight knot in her chest.

Will I ever feel whole again? Noor wondered, the ache in her ribs rivaling the heavy fatigue in her heart. I have to be strong for them, but heaven help me, I am so incredibly tired.

Yasmin and Amina, now fully recovered from their ordeal and the lingering effects of the sedation, were bundles of inexhaustible energy. They chased each other around the sparse furniture, their laughter ringing out like tiny bells, a sound that simultaneously soothed and amplified Noor’s exhaustion. They demanded stories, cuddles she couldn’t give, and attention she struggled to provide.

Luckily, the safe house was bustling with her newfound, unexpected family. Jax was patiently demonstrating how to stack colorful blocks into impossibly high towers, only to watch them topple with a theatrical roar that sent the twins into fits of giggles.

Shadow, surprisingly adept, was sketching animals on a notepad, occasionally letting Yasmin add extra legs or wings. Jake and Thorn were overseeing a makeshift fort crafted from blankets and sofa cushions, while Enzo, ever the calm presence, was reading a worn storybook, his deep voice a soothing rumble.

“Look, Ummi! Rhys made a jet!” Yasmin shrieked, holding up a paper airplane that soared briefly before plummeting into a stack of military-grade rations.

Rhys, perched on the edge of the sofa, already looked a week older than his eleven years, but his grin was pure, undiluted boyhood. He’d arrived with his father, Bear, a few hours ago, and had immediately taken to the task of entertaining the twins with a natural ease that surprised Noor. He seemed to understand their chaotic energy, redirecting them with patient explanations and elaborate paper plane constructions. He was a familiar, comforting anchor of normalcy in their fractured world.

The front door opened, and Noor’s head snapped up.

Link stood in the doorway, his gaze sweeping the room before settling on her. Behind him, leaning heavily on a crutch, was Sammy. His leg cast was no longer stark white but covered with colorful signatures, doodles, and drawings from the team and hospital staff. The lively artwork transformed the plain cast into a bright mosaic that showed the easy friendships he had made everywhere he went.

A gasp caught in Noor’s throat. Sammy. Here.

He is back to me, Noor thought, a tear finally breaking free. My brave, foolish, beautiful boy.

Yasmin and Amina paused their play, their bright eyes widening as they saw the familiar boy who had visited them daily at the hospital. They knew his gentle voice, his patient smile, the way he would prop himself up and draw funny pictures for them.

Sammy’s eyes found Noor’s first, a flash of shared history, shared pain, and now, shared relief. Then, his gaze dropped to the twins. He swallowed hard, a raw emotion twisting his features. These were the little sisters he had risked everything for, the ones he hadn’t yet truly interacted with outside the sterile hospital room. He hobbled forward, his crutch thudding softly against the floor. Yasmin, always the bolder, launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist as best she could, careful of his leg. Amina, a little more hesitant, clung to his good side, burying her face against his hip.

“Sammy!” Yasmin cried, her voice muffled against his shirt.

“Hey, munchkins,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, his free hand stroking Amina’s hair, then Yasmin’s. He closed his eyes for a moment, simply holding them, soaking in the reality of their presence.

Link watched the reunion, a rare, soft smile on his lips. Bear, who had followed Link inside, leaned against the doorframe, a hand resting on Rhys’s shoulder, observing the powerful scene.

As Sammy finally pulled back, a tear escaped from Noor’s eye, tracing a path down her cheek. The overwhelming wave of gratitude and love was almost too much.

Link cleared his throat, his voice regaining its usual commander’s tone, but with a lingering softness. “Alright, team,” he said, drawing everyone’s attention. “Bear, Jax, Shadow, Jake, Thorn, Enzo—meet me in the main room in five. Rhys,” Link’s eyes twinkled, “I’m officially assigning you to twin and brother-in-recovery duty. Keep them entertained. And out of trouble.”