Chapter 10
LaylaTehran
January 2001
We were not the first to arrive at the Safavis’; the
street outside their palatial home was full of parked cars. Two guards stood
by the wrought iron gates, welcoming guests and watching for the
komiteh. The Safavis’ house was ivory marble with a flat roof. The
large landscaped garden was illuminated with floodlights and the swimming
pool was covered for the winter.
We gathered on the doorstep. Maman rang the bell once,
then twice, then another time. “That housekeeper of Nahid’s is going
deaf,” she muttered.
Snow fluttered down and settled on our headscarves. It
was colder up here, the mountains were closer and the city seemed far
away.
The front door opened and Maman was all smiles.
“Salaam, Tahereh Khanoom. You’re looking well,” she
sa
