Then they went back inside. Mariam washed her hands, ran them through her hair, took a deep breath and let it out.
“Let me tend to your wounds now. You're all cut up, Laila jo.” Mariam said she needed the night to think things over.
To get her thoughts together and devise a plan. “There is a way,” she said, “and I just have to find it.”
“We have to leave! We can't stay here,” Laila said in a broken, husky voice.
She thought suddenly of the sound the shovel must have made striking Rasheed's head, and her body pitched forward.
Bile surged up her chest. Mariam waited patiently until Laila felt better.
Then she had Laila lie down, and, as she stroked Laila's hair in her lap, Mariam said not to worry, that everything would be fine.
She said that they would leave—she, Laila, the children, and Tariq too. They would leave this house, and this unforgiving city.
They would leave this despondent country altogether, Mariam said, running her hands through Laila's hair,
and go someplace remote and safe where no one would find them, where they could disown their past and find shelter.
“Somewhere with trees,” she said. “Yes. Lots of trees.”
They would live in a small house on the edge of some town they'd never heard of,
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색