What Changes Everything by Masha Hamilton Page B

and her surprise registered. " As salaam alaikum," she sai d, her expression turning formal.
           He stood without speaking. Zarlasht glanced toward her colleague, who nodded and left the room. She then looked toward Amin, silent. Though he distrusted her, her self-confidence struck him as impressive.
           "An American woman was supposed to meet with Mr. Barbery the day he was taken," Amin said. He took a paper from his chest pocket. "A nurse. He was going to help her, but he cannot. Here is her name. She wants to visit hospitals. I‟d like you to arrange a visit to Maiwand."
           She laughed. "An American woman nurse? In this hospital? Do you think that‟s appropriate?"
           "She will dress appropriately. She wants to help improve our medical practices. But that part doesn‟t matter to you. I‟m acting on behalf of Mr. Barbery. I‟d like you to arrange it for an afternoon sometime in the next week."
           Zarlasht narrowed her eyes, studying his face for a moment. Then she looked down at the paper silently. Finally she nodded. "Thursday would probably be fine. In the women‟s and children‟s wards only, of course."
           "Good," he said, but he didn‟t move.
           "There is something else?" she asked after a moment, a note of challenge in her voice.
           "The motivation," he said. "It‟s a little confusing to me. Was it accidental, or half
    intentional, a target of opportunity? Or was this your sole intent from the start?"
           "What are you talking about?"
           "Todd Barbery is a good man," he said.
           "Yes, I know."
           "No. No, you don‟t. He loves this country, Allah save him. At least up until this week, he did. And he‟s been foolish at times. He‟s failed to discern. But he is a good man."
    "I heard what happened. I am sorry. I meant to come by and say—"
           "But whether or not he is good," Amin interrupted, "that is not relevant to you. What is relevant, what you should know, is that aid workers are not soldiers."
           "Of course I know."
           "They are not politicians and they are not ousted leaders."
           "I realize—"
           "And if all the aid workers are driven out of Afghanistan—"
           "But why are you telling me—"
           "Todd Barbery," Amin spoke over her, "would never abandon this country, no matter what. But his big boss, his e mir bac k in America, and the other e mirs, they w ill finally say no. Do you understand that? And if all the aid workers are driven out, this will not be a good thing. Not for this hospital—how much foreign money have you received here? Not for the women. Not even, ultimately, for you."
           "Of course I know this," she said, rising from her seat as she spoke. "You think this is something I can control? Have you forgotten the country from which you come? Have you forgotten how little we women mean here? How quickly they muffle our voices, if they let us speak at all?"
           "You have ears, at the very least."
           "Which do me no good now."
           "And you also face threats," Amin went on as if she hadn‟t spoken, "because this country is not ready to smile and bow to a progressive woman, is it? In Afghanistan, progressive women must also be wise, playing one side against another so they can stay safe. Passing on information if needed. That could be motivation, I guess."
    She glared at him. "Your implications insult me."
    "Really? I was trying hard to be polite."
    "I have no connection to criminal elements."
    "In our country, politics and crime are wedded."
           "Who took him? And why? Those are the questions you should be trying to answer if you hope to win his release."
           "Those are the questions I‟m trying to answer, Zarlasht."
           Zarlasht gestured to the door. "I request that you