"It's about my brother!" Suprisingly, she found out that Jila did not know anything about it. Hana, for the first time believed Amir when he had told her not to talk to anyone. He had not even told his wife. Jila'a repeated questions left Hana no choice but to say:
"I can not tell you. After I see your husband, if he wants, he can tell you."
Jila frowned and left the room. Ten minutes later Amir and Hamid came and when they saw Hana there, their entire aura showed an unpleasntness that could not be hidden from her.
"What are you doing here?" Hamid asked her.
"Your sudden departure from my home made me suspicious. What's going on? If you know something, I want to know." She demanded.
Amir left the room, and took Jila, who was listening to the discover the mystery, with him. Hamid paced the room. Hana, with burning eyes, dry mouth, and throbbing heart was waiting for an answer; but Hamid would not talk. When Amir returned to the room, Hana walked to him and grabbed his hand.
"Tell me what's going on."
Amir look at Hamid and Hamid turned away and walked towards the window. Hana let Amir's hand go; and in a stage of a mental collapse, leaned on the wall. There was no need for words to let her know the tragedy. Her brother was one on the twenties.
Hana disagreed with Hamid and Amir's suggestion for not telling her mother. Jila, now that somewhat knew the story, was trying so hard to comfort Hana; but she did not want comfort. As usual she had to take the logistical matters in her hand.
"I must tell my mom. Do you want her to live in a vain hope for the rest of her life that one day Van will enter the house? Isn't that worse than the bad news?"
"Who is going to tell her?" Hamid asked.'
"Who else! It's my job to tell her. I am the only one can tell her. I must..." Her voice was barely audible before she collapsed on the floor.
Everybody running around her and trying to help her. She finally let the tears flow. Her cry seemed more like someone with cold than real cry. Amir asked his wife to bring a cup of coffee for her. Holding the cup in her shaky hands, she spilled most of it on the floor. Hamid took the cup from her and held her. She at last burst into a loud cry.
"Why? Why? Oh, God, why?"
After her hysterical frenzy was faded away to replace to a silent depression, Hamid offered to take her home. She unexpectedly resisted Hamid's hand and pushed him away.
"No, I am not leaving now. I want Van't body." Her demand seemed unreasonable.
"They never give the bodies to the families. They never even tell the families that have executed their loved ones. You know they don't want to advertise what they do!" Amir said ardently.
"I don't care. I want his body. I don't want those murderers to bury him in a mass grave as I've heard."
"Let me see what I can do. This is never been done. But I'm going to try. I promise you to the life of my only child that I do what I can possibly do to get his body." Amir said softly and genuinely.
Hana finally dropped her defense and let Hamid to take her home.
With Amir and Hana's minister's cousin's help and some bribe that came from Uncle Nabi, two days later, they received Van's perforated body in an unknown morgue. Gol, being in the hospital for nervous breakdown, could not be there; and Hana taking charge again, identified her brother's white body. He looked so dead as though he never existed. After a year and half separation, Hana was able to tell Van how much she missed him. He rested there lifeless with no blood left in his veins; while his chest and neck were all torn. Hana rejected uncle Nabi's offer to leave the room; and stood there as inanimate as her brother without any tears. Van was buried privately and secretly as Savak had ordered. Gol, still in hospital, was fighting her spiritless body and becoming closer to insanity, could not attend the burial.
"I am thoughtful when night warns storm and rain.
And it is night, where dead are in pain.
Should morning life peaks from mountain bed!
Should morning covers its face of this storm's dread!"
One thing Hana got to do before putting the shattered pieces of their lives back together, and that was to pay a visit to Reza, her vicious uncle, who had betrayed her brother. She did not speak to anyone about her plan. The morning after the burial, at six in the morning, she knocked Reza and Asad's apartment. When Asad opened the door and saw his niece after so many months, he instinctively knew the calamitous news. Hana did not look like a teenager who used to stay in her room with all her books anymore. She was a lamented woman looking older than her age. They looked at each other for awhile without speaking; and spontaneously at the same time, they opened their arms for a hug. Asad, a young man, a little older than Hana, a brother to her father, stood there, not being able to invite her in. The disastrous mishap was an unbelievable tragedy to accept. She finally entered the apartment.
"Where is Reza?"
"He is asleep." He pointed to a closed door.
Hana opened the door. Reza aware of everything, was not asleep. He looked at her and a sudden terror haunted him.
"Van is dead." She said while burning with desire to kill her uncle. "You're alive,"
Reza bent his head. He did not dare to look at her. Denial seemed stupid.
"I am sorry more than you can imagine." He finally said.
"I know; and I wish you stay sorry for the rest of your life. I can't forgive you. Can you forgive yourself?" And she left.
Hana, feeling lonely and overwhelmed with more responsibilities, did not delay the wedding. She could use a shoulder to lean on, a hand for help, and warm body for comfort.
To Be Continued
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