Ahmad and Noor, dead. Hasina, gone. Giti, dead. Mammy, dead. Babi, dead.
Now Tariq... But, miraculously, something of her former life remained,
her last link to the person that she had been before she had become so utterly alone.
A part of Tariq still alive inside her, sprouting tiny arms, growing translucent hands.
How could she jeopardize the only thing she had left of him, of her old life?
She made her decision quickly. Six weeks had passed since her time with Tariq.
Any longer and Rasheed would grow suspicious. She knew that what she was doing was dishonorable.
Dishonorable, disingenuous, and shameful. And spectacularly unfair to Mariam.
But even though the baby inside her was no bigger than a mulberry, Laila already saw the sacrifices a mother had to make.
Virtue was only the first. She put a hand on her belly. Closed her eyes.
Laila would remember the muted ceremony in bits and fragments.
The cream colored stripes of Rasheed's suit. The sharp smell of his hair spray.
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