Something was gone from her, an innocence perhaps, and yet she was more beautiful than Jahan remembered. He would have liked to take her in his arms, to press his lips against hers, but something in her face prevented him. ‘How are you, Anyush? You are well?’‘Yes,’ she said, putting the basket of laundry at her feet.‘And your mother and grandmother, they are in good health?’‘They are well also.’‘I’ve thought of you often, Anyush. I’ve been to the church on the cliff–’‘You’ve been away a long time, Jahan.’The wind shook the leaves, throwing them for an instant into shade. She shivered and hugged her arms around her.‘Are you cold?’‘No.’Nothing about this moment was as Jahan had imagined it. Many times he had rehearsed what he would say but now he couldn’t find the words. The wind veered around to the east, bringing with it the acrid smell of burning. Behind the wood in the direction of the village, Jahan could see dense black smoke rising into the blue sky.
