A Thousand Splendid Suns

The orphanage playground has a row of apple saplings now along the
east-facing wall. Laila is planning to plant some on the south wall as well
as soon as it is rebuilt. There is a new swing set, new monkey bars, and
a jungle gym.
Laila walks back inside through the screen door.
They have repainted both the exterior and the interior of the
orphanage. Tariq and Zaman have repaired all the roof leaks, patched
the walls, replaced the windows, carpeted the rooms where the children
sleep and play. This past winter, Laila bought a few beds for the
children's sleeping quarters, pillows too, and proper wool blankets. She
had cast-iron stoves installed for the winter.
Anis, one of Kabul's newspapers, had run a story the month before on
the renovation of the orphanage. They'd taken a photo too, of Zaman,
Tariq, Laila, and one of the attendants, standing in a row behind the
children. When Laila saw the article, she'd thought of her childhood
friends Giti and Hasina, and Hasina saying, By the time we're twenty, Giti
and I, we'll have pushed out four, five kids each Bui you, Laila, you'll
make us two dummies proud. You 're going to be somebody. I know one
day I'll pick up a newspaper and find your picture on the frontpage. The
photo hadn't made the front page, but there it was nevertheless, as
Hasina had predicted.
Laila takes a turn and makes her way down the same hallway where,
two years before, she and Mariam had delivered Aziza to Zaman. Laila
still remembers how they had to pry Aziza's fingers from her wrist. She
remembers running down this hallway, holding back a howl, Mariam