“You didn’t ask for me to get involved,” I allow grudgingly.“And it’s not a terrible thing to be so loved.All Isaad and Aliah wanted was for you to be safe.You’ve made their wishes come true.”
Sabera acknowledges my words with a slight nod.
“What do I tell Aliah?”I ask, though I’m pretty sure I know the answer.
“You cannot,” Sabera begins.
Lilla all but flashes her pistol again.
“All right, all right, got it.Aliah, Daryl, Genni.They will raise a glass in your honor each year, I’m sure.”
Sabera appears miserable again.She crosses to a small side table, opens the top drawer, and pulls out a batch of ragged-looking notebook pages, each folded into thirds and meticulously tied together with a ribbon.“I would like you to have this,” she states abruptly, thrusting the bundle at me.
I take it reluctantly.
“I’ve been documenting,” she begins, “moments of my life before the Taliban came.Letters to Zahra, trying to explain what happened and how much I love her, should the worst happen.It is not the greatest reward to bestow upon someone who has sacrificed so much on my behalf, but perhaps it will help you understand my journey.The choices I made.The true gift you have given me.”
I’m honestly dumbstruck.“I can’t take this.These writings are for your daughter—”
“Thanks to you, she will have me.I think she would agree that is a much better result.”
My hands start to shake.Tears sting my eyes.I clutch the tied pages close to my chest, honestly too choked up to murmur a reply.
I’ve never… I can’t…
I wonder if my own mother had ever thought of doing such a thing, and I wish that she had.Because there’s nothing I would like more, now that she’s gone, than to hear her speaking to me, even if it were only words on a page.
“We are in agreement?”Lilla arches a brow.
“I saw nothing.I know nothing,” I acknowledge.“That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”
“Always liked you, poppet.”
“Always terrified of you, Lilla No Last Name.”
That earns me a grin.
“And now?”she states crisply.
I can take a hint.I rise slowly off the sofa, nearly staggering from exhaustion.
“Tell Zahra she’s my favorite four-year-old.”I don’t have to ask that she remember me, or Daryl or Genni.We all know she will.I just hope someday those memories will make her smile.
Dr.Richard has a vehicle tucked just around the corner.
Another awkward round of farewells.
Then we leave Sabera, Zahra, and their new handler to the business of disappearing.
Dr.Richard drives me back to the compound.
He doesn’t speak the entire way, and neither do I.
EPILOGUE
IN THE WEEKS THAT COME,Genni and I hunker down.She arranges for the glass sliders to be replaced, then embarks on the mother of all deep cleanings, from scrubbing floors to shampooing rugs to dry cleaning drapes.Petunia and I learn to move out of her way or risk getting vacuumed.
It takes both Genni and me to get Marge out of the guest room, as the enormous Burmese python is both peeved at us and genuinely happy with her new digs.Finding the remaining baby balls proves much easier.