There are many places in this wasteland where they can hide our bones. We’ll lie there forever, never to be found by a living being, and no prayers will be said for our souls,’ Mrs Gulbenkian whispered close to Rebeka’s ear. Terrified of being overheard by one of the gendarmes who surrounded them, Rebeka remained silent. Her former neighbour constantly voiced suspicions about their fate, but Rebeka shuddered all the same. She realised Mariam had heard Mrs Gulbenkian when her sister tightened her grip on her hand. The rumours had begun days ago, echoing from one woman to another when realisation dawned that they were being taken east. A scream resounded from somewhere in the centre of the huddle of women. Rebeka kneeled upright. The moon and stars were bright and she made out Mrs Saroyan, the baker’s wife, foaming at the mouth. Her four daughters were trying to quieten her, without success. The women around them watched the girls tend to their mother, but none dared offer help. Not after seeing the way the gendarmes beat women for extending the slightest kindness to one another.
