The Secret Sky: A Novel of Forbidden Love in Afghanistan by Atia Abawi

you’ll want to be married, and you’ll even enjoy it. It makes you a woman. I was so lucky that your father came for me. He has blessed me every day since, treating me like a friend, not a servant.”
    Samiullah had always reminded me of my father, his kindness and his gentleness. But last night’s revelations made me realize my father is not the man I thought he was. Samiullah could never be like that. Samiullah would be a man who would treat everyone well, not just his wife.
    My mother continues to talk, but I can’t hear her anymore. I drown her out with thoughts of what a future with Samiullah would be like. Most likely in a home built by him and his cousins. It would have a big room for the
tandoor.
We could have tea in the living area and a courtyard for the livestock. We would eat candy, laughing and sharing stories . . .
    I snap back to reality and realize how crazy I am for having those thoughts. Zohra was right, I keep dreaming of things that aren’t possible. And a future with Samiullah is impossible.

Six

    FATIMA
    After we’ve finished with the bread, I leave my home, taking the route I use to Zohra’s house. I feel bad about missing time with Zohra’s
bibi,
but I promise myself I’ll review the work in my head later tonight, before I fall asleep. Besides she may still not be well enough to teach us today. I walk through our flat fields until the tree line begins. We don’t have much greenery in our village, but we do have spots where the pine trees grow. Children go there in the fall to gather pine nuts, but the area is ignored during the spring and summer.
    I walk several meters forward, cracking and breaking the small branches under my feet. If I were going to Zohra’s, I’d keep heading straight on the dirt path created by Karim walking to the fields every morning and home every evening. For a split second, it dawns on me that I can follow the path and actually see Zohra. I can read with her and her grandmother and save myself from the dangerous plan Samiullah and I have made. It would be the wise choice, going straight.
    I don’t. I turn right in an area where the foliage is sparse. Protected by the cover of the trees, I hunch over and whack away the branches and leaves. While I wait for Samiullah, my heart rate accelerates and my breathing becomes heavier.
    I have rarely lied to my parents. I’ve never really had a reason to. But this seems worth it. And even though it frightens me, I can’t stop myself.
    I know that if I get caught, Samiullah and I could be in a lot of trouble, especially if we have a real run-in with Latif and his men. But what worries me more is that it will ruin my family’s name and honor to have their elder daughter running around the village unsupervised. Not just unsupervised—alone with a boy. The more I think about it, the more my stomach drops. I feel the rush of blood darting straight to my face. I can’t do this. It’s far too risky. But just as I’m deciding to turn around and go to Zohra’s, I hear him.
    “Fatima?” Samiullah says, his voice deep and soothing. “Is everything okay?” Any anxious feelings I had suddenly disappear and I’m in a place of calm and warmth.
    “Yes, everything is fine,” I tell him.
    “Are you sure? The color has drained from your face.” His eyes look concerned.
    “Yes, I’m sure.” I smile at him and kick a small stone on the dirt below, trying to avoid his gaze.
    “Good, then! So what do you want to do today? I should probably teach you a little bit of reading just in case your parents want to test you soon,” he says, smiling as he pulls out a notebook and pen from the pocket of his
payron.
I think he might be more worried than I am about getting caught. We both know his punishment would be less severe than mine, but he seems more alert than I am, ready to run at the smallest sign of trouble.
    “I’m already a good reader, Sami,” I tell him. “I’d be fine if my parents decide to test me.”
    He raises