Free The Dressmaker of Khair Khana by Gayle Tzemach Lemmon Page B

you? You know what things are like now; you could be beaten or taken to jail just for leaving the house at the wrong time. Who knows what could happen, and with father no longer here to help if something goes wrong . . .”
    Saaman's voice trailed off as she halfheartedly waited for her sister's answer, but she knew what was coming. Everyone in the family knew that Kamila was not easily moved; her strong will and determination were famous among the Sidiqi clan. Once she had committed herself to an idea she wouldn't let go, regardless of the danger. Sayed Jamaluddin was a perfect example: Her older sisters had pleaded with her to stay home from school during the civil war years while rockets regularly fell on Kabul. It simply wasn't safe to go to class. But Kamila had insisted it was her duty to her family to finish her studies and that her faith would help to protect her. In the end, she won her father's blessing to remain in school, unlike so many other girls whose studies were cut short by war. After all, he was the one who had taught her that learning was the key to the future--both her own and her country's.
    As Saaman expected, Kamila had no intention of backing down from her plan, but she promised she would take all the precautions Malika had insisted on: She would stay out of Lycee Myriam during prayer time and she wouldn't speak to anyone she didn't know. She would take Rahim as her mahram. Anyway, she asked her sisters, if she didn't go, who would? Her work would help her family, which was a sacred obligation of Islam. And she firmly believed her faith would protect her and keep her safe.
    There was no arguing with Kamila. Instead, Saaman buried her concern beneath a litany of questions.
    “Where will you start?” she asked. “Maybe you could try Omar's tailoring store inside the bazaar? Or maybe it would be better to try the one we usually go to along the main strip of shops, where we know people?”
    “I don't know yet. We'll have to see how it goes,” Kamila responded, trying to seem unfazed by the risks she faced as she launched the second stage of her new venture: finding shops that would do business with her. “I'll start with one or two of the stores inside the bazaar; maybe they'll be interested. I'm sure someone will. Look how lovely this dress is!”
    Kamila held the garment up to her shoulders as she spoke. For just a moment she allowed her imagination to run, envisioning the woman who might wear it someday for a special occasion. But she quickly forced herself back to the matter at hand.
    “Malika told me that if we can get some steady orders from a shop she'll help us with more designs,” Kamila said, folding the blue dress once more and carefully returning it to the plastic bag that lay next to her on the living room floor where they all sat. “We can build a dressmaking empire, the Sidiqi Sisters!” she added, enjoying the sound of it.
    “Kamila Jan, I know you know what you're doing, but please . . .” Laila, the youngest of the girls in the room, had been quietly listening to the conversation. She regarded her sisters with a mix of awe and fear; at fifteen, she was long accustomed to hearing the older girls discuss their plans, but the risks they faced had never seemed so formidable--or so close to home. The Mujahideen years had been dangerous for certain, but back then the violence had struck at random. Today everyone knew the risks that waited just outside their front door; what was harder to anticipate were the consequences. If Kamila got caught speaking to a shopkeeper she could be simply yelled at, or taken into the street and beaten, or, worst of all, she could be detained. It all depended on who saw her. And then where would they all be? Kamila was the oldest, and right now she was responsible for her remaining brother and four sisters at home.
    Najeeb had left the house in Khair Khana two weeks earlier on a sunny winter morning. He carried only a small vinyl overnight bag with a