“Why did you have to do such a thing?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
The room was dark and smelled of rotted meat. The stench reminded Shekib of cholera, of mourning and loneliness.
Benafsha’s face had changed. Shekib was struck by the difference. Just eight hours ago, she had been the most striking woman in the harem. How quickly her face had grayed! Her hair was stringy and her green eyes looked defeated and bloodshot.
One of the king’s most prized concubines. A life of luxury by any standards. The choicest foods, clothes. What had driven her to take all these for granted?
An hour passed in silence. Shekib wanted to ask her about Agha Baraan. She was sure it was him. The hat. The rose petal. But why? He was Amanullah’s friend. Why would a man like him commit such an act against his friend’s family, especially when his father was the most powerful man in Afghanistan?
“I am sorry you are here.”
Shekib looked up. “So am I.”
She thought of Amanullah. What would he think when he heard of the night’s events? How disappointed he would be in her! She wasn’t much of a guard, according to the palace. What made her think she could be much of a wife? Benafsha had ruined everything. She looked at the girl with disgust and pity. Then there was Ghafoor, that split-tongued viper. She had set Shekib up, saving herself. No wonder she had run off. Coward.
The dank room was unfamiliar but the rest of the experience was not. Angry fingers had often pointed at Shekiba.
On the king’s orders, Shekib had been led away—through the hallways, through the kitchen and into the small room where the cooks once kept cured meats and vegetables. The room smelled of flesh and earth. Shekib closed her eyes and imagined her father’s house. Her mind floated to those bare walls, her brother’s shirt thrown across a chair as if he would run through the door looking for it. Her sister’s amulet on the table. Her father, sitting in the corner clicking the beads of his tasbeh while he stared through the window onto fallow fields, a fallow home.
Shekib stood up and began to pace. The walls were tight but light crept in, framing the door with a yellow glow. The palace had electricity courtesy of a foreign company commissioned by the king. All of Afghanistan twinkled by lanterns but the palace shone, a beacon for the rest of the country.
The king must have his way. How much it must burn him that another man has had his way with his precious Benafsha. She’s pretty, I suppose. If she doesn’t show her teeth when she smiles. All pushed together, her teeth look like chickens climbing over one another in a crowded coop.
Benafsha had her head between her knees. Shekib couldn’t tell if she was awake or asleep.
“What do you think they’re going to do with us?” Shekib asked quietly.
Benafsha shoulders lifted and fell with a deep breath.
“How long do you think we’ll have to be in here?”
Benafsha looked up. Her eyes were flat with resignation. “You really don’t know?”
Shekib shook her head.
“When the crime is adultery, the punishment is sangsaar. I will be stoned.”