Although she locked and bolted her door, and checked her windows several times, she found it hard to sleep more than a few minutes at a stretch. When she drifted off she saw Wahid, Abdul and Mehran again, walking down the aisle of the train, searching for her. In her dreams, she couldn’t hide. Instead, she felt compelled to draw attention to herself. She tried to whisper and raised her voice instead. Tried to shrink among the other chattering women and ended up standing on her seat. Each time she lurched awake her heart pounded as she clutched the covers to her chin, scanned the room for intruders, listened for footsteps out in the corridor. Sometimes she heard them, and she waited, breath held, until they approached, passed and drifted into the distance. When her alarm rang in the morning, her eyes ached and her head throbbed. She wasn’t sure she could go on. A hot shower helped. She unbraided her hair, washed it thoroughly, enjoying the spring scent of the hotel shampoo. She shaved her legs with the disposable razor she purchased the day before and used the blow dryer to dry her hair before neatly braiding it again.
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