11
“She helped you carry groceries?” The guard hadn’t pointed his AK-47 right at her, but it was loose in his hands.
“Yes. A very nice girl. Now pay her fifty Afghanis and she’ll be on her way.”
The guard reached out a big hand and yanked back the scarf that Azadah had pulled forward as they’d approached.
“Kurdish,” he cursed studying her face. “A long way from home, girl.” He kept his hand clamped in her hair forcing her to raise her chin. “You spy for Americans or Iranians?”
Geti squinted up at her face and Azadah could see the suspicion forming in the old woman’s eyes. Azadah knew it would be a mistake to protest her innocence, but she couldn’t think of what else to do. She had to get away, but there was no way to do so without raising more suspicions. So, she’d make up something e
