Laila pictured Tariq in his shack, sitting up in bed, watching the leafy world outside his window.
At the end of the grace period, Sayeed raised Tariq's pay to full,
told him his lunches were free, gave him a wool coat, and fitted him for a new leg.
Tariq said he'd wept at the man's kindness. With his first month's full salary in his pocket, Tariq had gone to town and bought Alyona.
“Her fur is perfectly white,” Tariq said, smiling.
“Some mornings, when it's snowed all night, you look out the window and all you see of her is two eyes and a muzzle.”
Laila nodded. Another silence ensued. Upstairs, Zalmai had begun bouncing his ball again against the wall.
“I thought you were dead,” Laila said. “I know. You told me.”
Laila's voice broke. She had to clear her throat, collect herself. “The man who came to give the news, he was so earnest...”
“I believed him, Tariq. I wish I hadn't, but I did. And then I felt so alone and scared.
Otherwise, I wouldn't have agreed to marry Rasheed. I wouldn't have...”
“You don't have to do this,” he said softly, avoiding her eyes.
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