The next morning, Mamani called to say how glad she was that Mina’s party had gone well. No one hurt or killed or arrested. She told Mina to tell Darya that she’d be over at noon to help with the cleaning up. First, though, she was just going to stop by the greengrocer’s downtown, the one with the best pomegranates, to get some for her little Mina Joon—wait a minute, make that her big ten-year-old Mina Joon! Mina even remembered to tarof, saying things like Oh no, Mamani, don’t go down there just for me, you’ll tire yourself, it’s a long way. But Mamani insisted, and Mina gave in quickly. Okay, thank you, Mamani Joon.
BABA TOLD DARYA THE NEXT day that the body parts were definitely Mamani’s—he recognized her clothes. Hooman showed the article in the newspaper that noted the bomb was dropped at 11:17 a.m. Audacious time of day for bombs, even for Saddam. Darya left that day’s rice unwashed, uncooked. She didn’t soak anything in saffron. Hooman and Kayvon wept for weeks and stopped karate. They all wore black for forty days. Mina looked around and saw that someone, Saddam, had found a way to shut life completely down. Something had brought unbearable grief. She realized that the something was war. She vowed to stop all wars when she grew up. To make sure another war with Iran never began. She’d always known war brought pain and destruction. She just hadn’t known how much.