MadamI was upstairs, playing with Mariam," Zalmai said.
"And your mother?""She was…She was downstairs, talking to that man.""I see," said Rasheed. "Teamwork."Mariam watched his face relax, loosen. She watched the foldsclear from his brow. Suspicion and misgiving¹ winked² out of hiseyes. He sat up straight, and, for a few brief moments, heappeared merely thoughtful, like a captain informed of imminentmutiny taking his time to ponder his next move.
He looked up.
Mariam began to say something, but he raised a hand, and,without looking at her, said, "It's too late, Mariam."To Zalmai he said coldly, "You're going upstairs, boy."On Zalmai's face, Mariam saw alarm. Nervously³, he lookedaround at the three of them. He sensed now that his tattletalegame had let something serious-adult serious-into the room. Hecast a despondent⁴, contrite⁵ glance toward Mariam, then hismother.
In a challenging voice, Rasheed said,"Now!"He took Zalmai by the elbow. Zalmai meekly⁶ let himself be ledupstairs.
They stood frozen, Mariam and Laila, eyes to the ground, asthough looking at each other would give credence⁷ to the wayRasheed saw things, that while he was opening doors andlugging baggage for people who wouldn't spare him a glance alewd conspiracy⁸ was shaping behind his back, in his home, inhis beloved son's presence. Neither one of them said a word.
They listened to the footsteps in the hallway above, one heavyand foreboding, the other the pattering of a skittish⁹ little animal.
They listened to muted words passed, a squeaky plea, a curtretort, a door shut, the

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