Apa pulled Lira to the closest room by her ear, not caring for Lira’s yell as she dragged her forcefully through the wooden doors. Maryam came in behind them, closing the doors and drawing the curtains shut as Apa let Lira go. Frankencense burned by the north window, its wispy tendrils coating the drawing room in a hazy embrace.
“I was only asking a question!” Lira rubbed her sore ear. She had forgotten how sharp that pain was, a feeling that she’d often been forced to visit by Apa in her youth. “I haven’t done anything!”
“Rubbish, it’s written all over your face,” Apa hissed, her eyes livid. “Maryam told me you were acting strange when you returned.”
Betrayal sliced through Lira, and she glared at Maryam, who had taken a seat by the door. She shrugged guiltily, “I said it in passing,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “You were acting skittish.”
“I was not skittish,” Lira murmured. Her back touched the wall, and she realized then that she’d been retreating as far away from them as she could go. “I had a sleepless night, that was -.”
“What happened last night?” Apa cut her off. Her posture had gotten very straight, and the woman that often spent hours hysterically dramatizing her life suddenly seemed incredibly serious. Her face seemed to age a decade, her shoulders hunched with an invisible heaviness. Both Maryam and Apa stared at Lira, nonplussed.
The small drawing room they were in suddenly felt very small, and Lira looked around, trying to find a way to escape from this situation.
Seeing no way out, she caved. “They caught me -.”
“Y’Allah -.” Maryam whispered as Apa held her hands to her ears and let out an “Astagfur’Allah.”
“They threw me in their dungeons,” Lira went on, ignoring their reactions. “I had to escape, if we wanted Ayesha to live. You saw her. She had only hours if the infection were to spread. I couldn’t let her die,” taking.a deep breath, she steamrolled on, “A man helped me escape the dungeon, but I didn’t know…” she bit her lip, the next few words quiet. “He was idrisi.”
The silence in the room was deafening. Lira didn’t dare look up from the carpet. She could feel Maryam’s jaw drop open.
Finally, she looked up and flinched at the shock and betrayal in Apa’s eyes. The anger that had been simmering under Apa’s skin subsided at once, as if clouded by the shock reverberating through the room. She stumbled back and sat on the futon by the wall. Her heart went to her chest, and she closed her eyes.
Lira looked at Maryam, as if searching for some camaraderie or support. The woman simply stared back at her, her face in incredulous shock as if unsure whether what she heard was correct.
“I had no choice,” Lira said, exasperated by their reactions.
“You jeopardized all of our safety for the sake of one girl!” Apa stared at her in disbelief. “What were you thinking? Do you know what might happen to us now?”
“Nobody saw me -.”
“This is a crime against the state,” Apa went on. “And the state exists in the name of God. What you did was a crime against the faith.”
Lira protested, “Come Apa, that has to be an exaggeration. It was survival.”
“That isn’t how the kingdom will see it when they persecute you.”
“They don’t know it’s me!”
“Of course they do, they’re already at our doorstep, Lira,” Apa’s skin had paled, “They will prosecute us all for providing you with shelter.”
“We still don’t know what they know,” Maryam finally broke her silence, looking at the ground. “What if they simply want to ask questions?”
“Have I raised fools?” Apa’s anger returned, like whiplash. “Ask questions? The rich do not ask the poor questions. They come to us to demand sacrifice, to admonish us for our sins.” She took one look at the two of them, before standing up. “Lira, you must leave.”
“W-what?” Lira followed Apa out of the door, sending Maryam a desperate stare. “Apa, when they return, let me speak -.”
“You will do no such thing,” she turned to Lira, her eyes betraying the thoughts that were running a million miles a minute in her mind. “You’ve been on the streets long enough to know how the kingdom works. They don’t need evidence to convict anybody, they only need a whisper of doubt. I’m not going to lose any more people to their dungeons. Forget the idrisi, the fact that you escaped at all is a death sentence. Anybody could have seen you run away. Do you realize that? The fact that they were at our doorstep means we are already hours behind.”
“Hours behind?” Maryam asked, looking nervously at Apa as she began walking down the hallway again.
“Lira, you have to disappear.” Apa entered her room on the first floor and ushered Maryam and Lira in. Immediately, she thrust a sack into Lira’s hands, “if you leave within the hour, you may be able to reach the border of Islamabad by sunset -.”
“I’m not going anywhere…” Lira’s head was spinning. It was all happening so fast, “If I have to identify myself to them, I will. I would never allow anybody else take the fall for what I did.”
“Have you not been listening, child?” Apa’s voice was filled with dread, “They will kill you. If they so much as think you are involved, they will kill you. They will kill you in front of us, to punish us. It has happened once before, do you not remember the stories we speak of Huna? She was raped, and then killed for speaking against the prince. Do you think they let her talk? To explain? Do you think they they want a conversation? If you believe that, then I’ve taught you nothing!” Apa let out a shaky breath, “I stood by silently then. I will not let another one of my daughter’s die.”
Stunned silence filled the room, the icy tendrils of shock snaking their way down Lira’s back. She had heard of what happened to Huna, everyone had. It was something they were taught early on, to understand where they stood in the totem pole of power in Islamabad. She hadn’t ever heard Apa speak of it so passionately, and the story had turned into a folk tale of sorts. Hearing it spoken of so viscerally now, Lira swallowed the bile rising in her throat.
“Maryam, run upstairs and get the lightest clothes you can find for Lira. Be quick about it,” Apa ordered. Maryam didn’t defy the matriarch, simply bit her lip and ran off, all feistiness gone.
Lira stood there as Apa began to fill the sack in Lira’s arms, revealing to Lira items that she didn’t even know Apa owned; a bota bag with water, a bronze compass, a dagger sheathed in leather, dehydrated biscuits, a bundle of raisins wrapped in cloth, and a roll of bandages. Maryam was back in minutes with two kameeze and a white shalwar. Lira silently watched it all happen, in disbelief at how it was unfolding. Maryam kept looking at Lira, as if to share in her disbelief.
Apa tied the sack after putting in the clothes Maryam brought. “My sister lives in the city of Ghazni, south of Kabul, she will give you refuge if you tell her I sent you. Her name is Zubaida, she will look after you.”
“Ghazni?” Maryam said in a small voice, “Afghanistan?”
“It will take you four weeks by foot,” Apa was flitting around the room, looking through drawers. She eventually found what she was looking for, and pulled out a satchel of coins. “I will send word to my nephew, who will help you cross the western border. Follow the Kohat Hangu river. Do not stray from it. It will take you to the city.”
The seriousness of the situation was beginning to dawn on Lira, and she found her body responding in autopilot. She took the sack and held it to her chest. Apa thrust the small pouch of coins into Lira’s hands. “These are twenty dinars. Its all I have, it will help you in Afghanistan. I hear they still use coin there.”
“When can I come back?” Lira finally said, her voice trembling. Islamabad was all she knew. The chali-wala that pushed his cart through the neighbourhood every day at noon, the iron barrels that cooked naan in the kitchens every sunset, the dryness of the earth under her feet, and the humid air she breathed as she slept and woke. She had never known anything else. Looking up at Apa, she felt a choking sensation claw at her throat as she saw the look in her eyes.
Apa held a hand to Lira’s cheek, “We are survivors. We do what we can to survive. You need to focus on surviving now. Do you hear me?”
Lira nodded, holding back the overwhelming panic rattling in her chest. For the first time since she had entered the room, she spoke. “Can I say goodbye?”
Apa looked at Maryam, “The less the others know the better. The guards are stationed at the front, they will not be guarding the gates at the back. Maryam, help her escape through the back so that nobody else sees.”
Lira nodded, barely grasping the reality of the situation. Apa pulled her into an embrace, the warmth of the woman who had protected her for her entire life providing some comfort to her in the moment. She closed her eyes and hugged her back, trying to savour the moment. It felt like she was traipsing through a parallel reality, where her normal world had vanished from beneath her feet.
And just like that, the warmth was gone. Apa pulled back and steadied Lira by holding her firmly by the shoulders. “Don’t worry. We will see each other again,” Apa said, giving Lira a firm squeeze.
Lira took a shaky breath and nodded, and then turned to Maryam who looked as shell-shocked as Lira had been in the morning.
Apa hissed under her breath as the Lira and Maryam stood motionless. “Go!”