A Thousand Splendid Suns

She pictured Jalil smiling, reaching into his pocket.
Ah. Of course. Well Here then. Without Juriher ado…
A leaf-shaped pendant, tiny coins etched with moons and stars hanging
from it.
Try it on, Mariam jo.
What do you think?
Ithink you look like a queen.
A few minutes passed. Then footsteps, a creaking sound, and a click.
"He does know him."
"He does?"
"It's what he says."
"Where is he?" Mariam said. "Does this man know where Jalil Khan is?"
There was a pause. "He says he died years ago, back in 1987."
Mariam's stomach fell. She'd considered the possibility, of course. Jalil
would have been in his mid-to late seventies by now, but…
1987.
He was dying then. He had driven all the way from Herat to say
good-bye.
She moved to the edge of the balcony. From up here, she could see the
hotel's once-famous swimming pool, empty and grubby now, scarred by
bullet holes and decaying tiles. And there was the battered tennis court,