A Thousand Splendid Suns

"Beans, girls," Hasina said. "You remember that. Unless, of
course"-here she flashed an impish grin and nudged Laila with an
elbow-"it's your young handsome, one-legged prince who comes
knocking- Then…"
Laila slapped the elbow away. She would have taken offense if anyone
else had said that about Tariq. But she knew that Hasina wasn't
malicious. She mocked-it was what she did-and her mocking spared no
one, least of all herself.
"You shouldn't talk that way about people!" Giti said.
"What people is that?"
"People who've been injured because of war," Giti said earnestly,
oblivious to Hasina's toying.
"I think Mullah Giti here has a crush on Tariq. I knew it! Ha! But he's
already spoken for, don't you know? Isn't he, Laila?"
"I do not have a crush. On anyone!"
They broke off from Laila, and, still arguing this way, turned in to their
street.
Laila walked alone the last three blocks. When she was on her street,
she noticed that the blue Benz was still parked there, outside Rasheed
and Mariam's house. The elderly man in the brown suit was standing by
the hood now, leaning on a cane, looking up at the house.