The boys meant it to be flattering. But it frightened the girl since people would have loved to assume that she’d sought out the attention. There just weren’t many ways for the boys to entertain themselves.
“Shahla, where is Rohila?” I whispered. My heart was pounding as we tiptoed around to the back of the house.
“She’s taken some food to the neighbor’s house. Madar-jan cooked some eggplant for them. I think someone died.”
Died? My stomach tightened and I turned my attention back to following Shahla’s footsteps.
“Where’s Madar-jan?” Parwin said, her voice a nervous hush.
“She’s putting the baby to sleep,” Shahla said, turning toward us. “So you better not make too much noise or she’ll know you’re just coming home now.”
Parwin and I froze. Shahla’s face fell as she looked at our widened eyes. She whipped around to see Madar-jan standing behind her. She had come out of the back door and was standing in the small paved courtyard behind the house.