I heard sniffles. A throat cleared. A deep sigh. A chorus of discomfiture.

When I opened my eyes in the morning, Antonia was at the breakfast table sipping coffee.

“Sitara,” she said, rising to sit at the end of the sofa. She gave my ankle a light squeeze. “I need you to trust me. I’m going to get you out of here safely. It may take a few more days to figure it out, but we will do this.”

I nodded because it was all I could do.

When Antonia had gone, Tilly wrapped her arms around me. She brushed strands of hair from my temple.

“Let’s wash up and get dressed,” Tilly suggested. “We need some sunlight.”

I did as she suggested, slipping into the corduroy pants and pullover Antonia had bought for me. I brushed my hair slowly, thinking I needed to take control of the situation. My sister’s birth certificate was on the bookshelf. I knew my way around Kabul’s streets. I was still a child but old enough to move through the city undetected.

You must take a step, before you ask God to bless your journey, my father used to tell me. If I wanted God to protect me, I needed to do my part. When I thought of slipping away from Antonia and Tilly and taking that step on my own, I felt a tug at my heart stronger than I would have expected. We were not related by blood, though looking at the rift between mother and daughter, I didn’t know if that mattered much.

And yet I did not feel out of place in this apartment. Tilly had become like a grandmother to me, the two of us fused by the weight of the world around us.

“Let’s take in this gorgeous morning before it disappears,” she announced. She’d changed into a lilac tunic with straight-leg navy pants. She wore a necklace of knitted flowers, pouty petals surrounding silver beaded centers. We climbed the stairs to the rooftop. I stretched my legs and let the air fill my lungs. We’d been outside only a few moments when my stomach began to growl. Both Tilly and I often forgot to eat. I hadn’t had anything for breakfast and wondered if she was hungry. Tilly snored lightly, lulled to sleep by a reaffirming sun.

There were hard-boiled eggs in the fridge and some bread left over from the night before. I would fix her a plate too.

I walked down the stairs and through the apartment door. I walked through the living room and into the narrow kitchen. I was pulling two plates from the cabinet when I heard a door open behind me.

Had Antonia come back already?