Not Without My Daughter Book | iPad |

She woke Mahtob with a kiss. “Time for the adventure,” she whispered.

The snow on the Alborz Mountains looked deceptively peaceful, like a postcard slipped under the door of a nightmare. Betty Mahmoody stared at it from the frost-veined window of her mother-in-law’s apartment in Tehran, a city that had become her gilded cage. Just three weeks ago, that snow had been a novelty. Now, it was a wall. not without my daughter book

Betty picked up Mahtob and ran. The weight of her daughter, the burning in her lungs, the fear—it all fused into a single, animal instinct. She did not feel the cold. She did not feel the rocks cutting her feet through her thin shoes. She only felt the need to move. She woke Mahtob with a kiss

Betty wrote the name on a scrap of paper: Ali. She hid it in the hem of Mahtob’s coat. Betty Mahmoody stared at it from the frost-veined