Chapter 33
33. Mariam Early one morning the next spring, of 1993, Mariam stood by the living-room window and watched Rasheed escort the girl out of the house. The girl was tottering forward, bent at the waist, one arm draped protectively across the taut drum of her belly, the shape of which was visible through her burqa. […]
Chapter 32
32. Laila Laila remembered a gathering once, years before at the house, on one of Mammy’s good days. The women had been sitting in the garden, eating from a platter of fresh mulberries that Wajma had picked from the tree in her yard. The plump mulberries had been white and pink, and some the same […]
Chapter 31
31. Mariam In the daytime, the girl was no more than a creaking bedspring, a patter of footsteps overhead. She was water splashing in the bathroom, or a teaspoon clinking against glass in the bedroom upstairs. Occasionally, there were sightings: a blur of billowing dress in the periphery of Mariam’s vision, scurrying up the steps, […]
Chapter 30
30. Laila The next day, Laila stayed in bed. She was under the blanket in the morning when Rasheed poked his head in and said he was going to the barber. She was still in bed when he came home late in the afternoon, when he showed her his new haircut, his new used suit, […]
Chapter 29
29. Mariam I’m so sorry,” Rasheed said to the girl, taking his bowl of mastawa and meatballs from Mariam without looking at her. “I know you were very close . . . friends . . . the two of you. Always together, since you were kids. It’s a terrible thing, what’s happened. Too many young […]
Chapter 28
28. Laila Laila sat across from Abdul Sharif, who was a thin, small-headed man with a bulbous nose pocked with the same cratered scars that pitted his cheeks. His hair, short and brown, stood on his scalp like needles in a pincushion. “You’ll have to forgive me, hamshira,” he said, adjusting his loose collar and […]
Chapter 27
27. Mariam Do you know who I am?” The girl’s eyes fluttered. “Do you know what has happened?” The girl’s mouth quivered. She closed her eyes. Swallowed. Her hand grazed her left cheek. She mouthed something. Mariam leaned in closer. “This ear,” the girl breathed. “I can’t hear.” FOR THE FIRST WEEK, the girl did […]
Part Three
PART THREE
Chapter 26
26. It was, by far, the hottest day of the year. The mountains trapped the bone-scorching heat, stifled the city like smoke. Power had been out for days. All over Kabul, electric fans sat idle, almost mockingly so. Laila was lying still on the living-room couch, sweating through her blouse. Every exhaled breath burned the […]
Chapter 25
25. Laila could hardly move, as though cement had solidified in every one of her joints. There was a conversation going on, and Laila knew that she was at one end of it, but she felt removed from it, as though she were merely eavesdropping. As Tariq talked, Laila pictured her life as a rotted […]