Chapter 5
We’ve moved to the dining table. Leila has prepared grilled lamb and tahdig and it’s finger-lickingly delicious. I still don’t know that much about her, but at least I know she can cook.
“The other day,” I start, “you said you knew a thing or two about loss. What did you mean by that?”
“I’ve lost people I loved very much.”
I nod and keep quiet, hoping she will continue.
She puts her cutlery down and then, literally, licks her index finger. She sucks it between her lips and I have to keep my mouth from falling open. Is she doing this on purpose or is this just how she eats? It’s not really the right timing because of my question, so maybe this is just how she is. Maybe I’ve learned much more about her already than I realize—all the things that words can’t convey.
“When I was
