Emily was a bit nervous, waiting for what would happen next. She was about to peak into the next stall when she heard the mother speak. “Raana, Newal, Basma... lets go.”
Wait, thought Emily. Why can I understand her? She looked at her hand and realized it was now a much darker shade than before. Her breasts were larger and she was dressed more conservatively in a sweatshirt and loose jeans. She emerged from the stall and caught a glance of herself in the mirror. She looked like Raana’s older sister. She frowned and muttered an Arabic curse to herself.
The mother looked at her and spoke in Arabic. “Watch your language Basma. I know I let you make your own choices and don’t try to make you follow all the rules from back home in Iraq. But if your father hears you he will be less forgiving.”
Emily/Basma felt herself compelled to answer “yes, mom.”
The mother gathered her daughters and rushed them from the bathroom. It was time to head home. Sadly, the camera was left in the stall, so Emily and Rick ended their day as Basma and Raana, and would spend their lives as young refugee girls trying to find their way in the United States.
The camera was found by...