Two women. Uncountable losses. One self-giving sacrifice. And one ordinary life aftwerward. 

The series of unforunate events. It leaves you wondering all the what if’s. What if Mariam never left the kolba; what if Jalil, Mariam’s dad, let Mariam in that day; what if Mariam let Jalil in later. 

I never cried so hard while reading a book. I only get teary – with one or two drops of tears. But this time, I cried. I cried when I read the letter from Jalil. An old man on his deadthbed asking for his daughter. The regretful tone of the letter. Him saying sorry and asking for forgiveness.

But I don’t know why I cried so hard, I didn’t relate to Mariam.

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