Page 117 - The Kite Runner

106 Khaled Hosseini

Forgive? But theft was the one unforgivable sin, the common
denominator of all sins. When you kill a man, you steal a life. You
steal his wife’s right to a husband, rob his children of a father.
When you tell a lie, you steal someone’s right to the truth. When
you cheat, you steal the right to fairness. There is no act more
wretched than stealing. Hadn’t Baba sat me on his lap and said
those words to me? Then how could he just forgive Hassan? And if
Baba could forgive that, then why couldn’t he forgive me for not
being the son he’d always wanted? Why—
“We are leaving, Agha sahib,” Ali said.
“What?” Baba said, the color draining from his face.
“We can’t live here anymore,” Ali said.
“But I forgive him, Ali, didn’t you hear?” said Baba.
“Life here is impossible for us now, Agha sahib. We’re leav-
ing.” Ali drew Hassan to him, curled his arm around his son’s
shoulder. It was a protective gesture and I knew whom Ali was pro-
tecting him from. Ali glanced my way and in his cold, unforgiving
look, I saw that Hassan had told him. He had told him everything,
about what Assef and his friends had done to him, about the kite,
about me. Strangely, I was glad that someone knew me for who I
really was; I was tired of pretending.
“I don’t care about the money or the watch,” Baba said, his
arms open, palms up. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this . . .
what do you mean ‘impossible’?”
“I’m sorry, Agha sahib, but our bags are already packed. We
have made our decision.”
Baba stood up, a sheen of grief across his face. “Ali, haven’t I
provided well for you? Haven’t I been good to you and Hassan?
You’re the brother I never had, Ali, you know that. Please don’t do
this.”
“Don’t make this even more difficult than it already is, Agha