A Thousand Splendid Suns

she had to get herself together. That what was done was done-After a
time, Laila got up and wiped her face, and they carried Rasheed to the
yard without further incident. They took him into the toolshed. They left
him behind the workbench, on which sat his saw, some nails, a chisel, a
hammer, and a cylindrical block of wood that Rasheed had been meaning
to carve into something for Zalmai but had never gotten around to
doing-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."
* * *
Mahiam 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.