A man holds his empty hand out for help. Another man wears thick gold rings on every finger and has a brick of gold in the palm of his hand. Which man struggles more to bear the weight of his outstretched hand?

I thought I’d understood his meaning then, but I didn’t really understand it until now.

“She must do too much for me,” I said.

Tilly shook her head, vehemently.

“Never think that. Not for one moment. You don’t know my daughter as well as you should. Nia only does what Nia wants to do. Do you know why she’s working in Kabul?”

I shook my head. Tilly dabbed at her nose.

“Every few months, I get a letter from Kabul. Nia doesn’t tell me much about herself. She never has. But she writes to me about the people she’s met. When her driver came to pick me up from the airport, I felt I knew him already because she had written to me about this gentleman who did beautiful pencil drawings of birds. She told me about students from the university who would bring her dried mulberries and practice their English with her. Or the factory owner who asked if she was related to Elvis Presley.” Tilly let out a laugh.

“Maybe it was those letters that made me get on a plane and follow her to the other side of the world. I don’t know. But I do know that if I hadn’t been here, I would have gotten a letter from her about the night the bravest girl in all the world showed up at her door.”

I made a new promise in that moment. I would find a way to show my gratitude to these two women even if I couldn’t imagine being capable of offering anything to anyone.

We returned to the embassy. Tilly waved at the officers in front of the gate and announced that we had been told to return. She smiled impatiently, as if she wouldn’t tolerate being asked to wait. The officer spoke to someone on a walkie-talkie, then led us back into the same building we’d entered the day before. It was morning, and the embassy whirred with activity. More people were moving through its hallways than the previous afternoon.

We were led into a room by the same man and offered the same seats. He stepped out and returned with two cups of mango juice and a small plate of biscuits, which I could decline thanks to the hearty breakfast we’d just had at the hotel. I didn’t want to accept their offering if they were going to tell us they could do nothing for me.