Chapter 15
LaylaTehran
January 2001
“So, here I am,” I said, untying my scarf.
Keyvan flicked his lighter open, then shut, then open
again. “Cigarette?” he asked.
“No thanks.” I felt too distracted to smoke.
He lit a cigarette for himself and took a long drag from
it, making the end glow red. “She’s OK, your cousin?” he said, his
words drifting out with smoke.
“Yes.” I wanted to ask again if something was wrong,
but somehow I couldn’t.
He sat down on the carpet and leaned against the wall. I
sat opposite him, cross-legged. Silence hung over us like heavy cloud;
anxiety crawled down my back and swept the hairs up on my arms.
I was beginning to think that I would have a cigarette
after all, when Keyvan spoke; but he spoke too softly and quickly for me to
catch the words. “Wh
