Free Allure of Deceit by Susan Froetschel

eager to return to her home and parents. But then she wasn’t keen on cooperating with the residents of Laashekoh.
    Regardless of what the girl wanted, Laashekoh was too small to absorb strangers for very long, especially girls with no fathers, uncles, husbands, or brothers to watch over them.
    Parsaa had wanted to keep trying to locate the girl’s family. Paul Reichart, the aid worker who had helped return other children from the traffickers to their homes, had promised to investigate. Parsaa had also asked around at the market about families in need of a servant, but with no success. Most villages had plenty of children and did not need another mouth to feed. He thought about taking her to one of the larger towns and paying a fee so that brokers would find her a servant’s position.
    Sofi shook her head. “She won’t be easy to place. They will send her back before the next full moon.”
    He sighed. “It would be best for all concerned if we found her family.”
    â€œDon’t be foolish,” Sofi chided him softly. She no longer believed Najwa and her claims about not knowing the whereabouts of her own family. Many villagers had questioned her, and all Najwa could say was that she was from Qarya, a small village in northern Ghōr. But that was of little help. Qarya meant “small village,” and even the Americans with their maps could not locate the place. When asked to describe her home, Najwa rambled on about three hills nearby.
    Most Afghan villages could count three hills nearby.
    Parsaa had long advised villagers to keep asking questions and listen closely. Najwa had to remember more.
    But her stories were vague, the details varying with listeners. She couldn’t describe roads or waterways or markets with specifics. One day, she suggested her parents did not own their own land, and her father had left for long periods to do odd jobs. With another, she explained that her father left and vanished. Her mother worked in fields belonging to a family whose name she could not recall. Then, she talked about a mother near death after bearing too many children. Yes, she had brothers. None had attended school, and all had left to fight in wars.
    There were no uncles, she told Sofi.
    To the aid worker, she explained that her parents had lived in one village all their lives. With Parsaa, she suggested that her parents had moved about in Ghōr more than once.
    When asked if she had already been promised to another family for marriage, all Najwa could say was she did not know.
    Sofi interrupted his thoughts. “You have spent far too long searching for a family that may not exist.”
    â€œThe girl could be afraid to return.” Parsaa also suspected Najwa knew more about her background. “Perhaps they were cruel.”
    His wife was impatient. “She does not show fear.”
    â€œWhy would a child lie?” He appealed to his wife. “Why would she act in ways that jeopardize her future?”
    â€œPerhaps they wanted nothing to do with her.”
    Women could be hard on other women.
    Sofi poured more hot water and leaned close to his ear. “Najwa does not like us. She does not want to be here.”
    â€œWe cannot hand our problem to another village,” he said.
    â€œShe needs training,” Sofi agreed. “But that is no longer possible here.”
    Parsaa asked about Najwa’s skills with chores, and Sofi thought a moment. “As good as one can expect at that age,” she admitted. “Granted, the women have been hard on her lately. But she does what she’s told.”
    â€œHas Najwa stolen others’ belongings?”
    Sofi shook her head. “But she should not be near other children.”
    He pulled a thread at the edge of the wool carpet. “Think about it,” his wife urged. “The foreign women came. They spoke loudly about offering rewards for finding orphans. And not long afterward, Najwa was in our