Clay is here for a story, but not my story. When Mom told him about the search efforts for the remains of those killed in the coup, he let out a long, heavy breath. He called me the next day and asked if he could join us. I made him promise not to write anything about me, and he agreed. Though the coup had defined my life, it was barely a blip in the newspapers or history books, so I’m grateful he wants to write now about what happened in April 1978, even if his focus is on the antiquities lost that night.

“I’m not prepared to face that possibility,” I admit.

“The search could go on for months or years. You don’t plan on spending that much time in Kabul, do you?”

I shake my head.

“I can’t. I have to get back to my practice.”

“You enjoy what you do?”

“There’s nothing else I imagine myself doing,” I reply. “It’s who I am.”

“People talk about cancer like it’s a war too. A different kind of war.”

“I’ve never liked that, turning people into soldiers. It works for some people who win but others aren’t up for the fight,” I say. I flex my feet to keep my blood circulating in my calves. When Mom wakes up, I’m going to remind her to do the same so she doesn’t develop a blood clot. “Surrender doesn’t make them any less brave.”

Clay flexes his feet as well, taking my cue. “What do you think it’s going to feel like to be back there?”

I’ve asked myself that same question. I don’t know how I’ll feel when my feet hit the tarmac. I’m not sure how I feel about my motherland anymore, and I’m even less sure how she feels about me.

I’m nervous about the possibility that my country will find a way to reject me, or that I’ll be overwhelmed at the sight of Arg or the discovery of the graves of my parents and brother.

Clay must sense that I can’t organize an answer to his question. He fills in the silence.

“I grew up in Kansas, and not even Kansas City. Just a sleepy little town full of good people during the day and only the sound of crickets at night. They thought about shutting down the local prison once, but that would’ve left a third of the town out of a job. I couldn’t wait to get out of there when I was a kid, so I only applied to colleges that were far from home.”

“Where did you end up going?”