Page 201 - A Woman Is No Man

“Nonsense,” Awatif said, pulling Fareeda back into the conversation.
“No mother in her right mind would kill her child. She must have been
possessed. I guarantee it.” She turned to Fareeda, who sat silently beside

her. “Tell them, Fareeda. You would know. Your twin daughters died right
in your arms. Would a mother ever do such a thing unless she wasn’t in her
right mind? It was a jinn. Tell them.”
A flush spread across Fareeda’s face. She made an excuse to grab
something from the kitchen, knees buckling as she rose from the plastic
chair. She tried to keep from falling as she walked across the dirt garden,
past the marimaya plant and the mint bush, and into the kitchen. It was

three feet by three across, equipped only with a sink, soba oven, and small
cabinet. Fareeda could hear Nadia on the veranda whispering, “Why would
you bring up such a thing? The woman lost her firstborns. Why would you
remind her?”
“It was over ten years ago,” Awatif said. “I didn’t mean anything by it.
Besides, look at her life now. She has three sons. Her naseeb turned out

pretty good, if you ask me. No reason to fuss.”
In the kitchen, Fareeda trembled violently. She remembered her
daughters’ death in bits and pieces only. Their bodies turning blue in her
arms. The sharp scent of death in the tent. The way she kept them wrapped
in blankets so Khaled wouldn’t notice, kept flipping and turning their limp
bodies, hoping the color would return to their faces. Then the scrambling
prayers. The small hole Khaled dug in the back of the tent, tears in his eyes.

And somewhere, in the tight confines of their tent, that thing which had
never left her since, the jinn. Watching her. She closed her eyes, muttered a
quick prayer under her breath.
Forgive me, daughters. Forgive me.