Page 337 - The Kite Runner

326 Khaled Hosseini

By the time I was done with my story, she was weeping.
“What do you think?” I said.
“I don’t know what to think, Amir. You’ve told me so much all
at once.”
“I realize that.”
I heard her blowing her nose. “But I know this much: You have
to bring him home. I want you to.”
“Are you sure?” I said, closing my eyes and smiling.
“Am I sure?” she said. “Amir, he’s your qaom, your family, so
he’s my qaom too. Of course I’m sure. You can’t leave him to the
streets.” There was a short pause. “What’s he like?”
I looked over at Sohrab sleeping on the bed. “He’s sweet, in a
solemn kind of way.”
“Who can blame him?” she said. “I want to see him, Amir. I
really do.”
“Soraya?”
“Yeah.”
“Dostet darum.” I love you.
“I love you back,” she said. I could hear the smile in her words.
“And be careful.”
“I will. And one more thing. Don’t tell your parents who he is.
If they need to know, it should come from me.”
“Okay.”
We hung up.

The lawn outside the American embassy in Islamabad was
neatly mowed, dotted with circular clusters of flowers, bordered
by razor-straight hedges. The building itself was like a lot of build-
ings in Islamabad: flat and white. We passed through several road-
blocks to get there and three different security officials conducted