"You call yourself a director?" Farid said. Zaman dropped his hands. "I haven't been paid in over six months. I'm broke because I've spent my life's savings on this orphanage. Everything I ever owned or inherited I sold to run this godforsaken place. You think I don't have family in Pakistan and Iran? I could have run like everyone else. But I didn't. I stayed. I stayed because of them." He pointed to the door. "If I deny him one child, he takes ten. So I let him take one and leave the judging to Allah. I swallow my pride and take his goddamn filthy… dirty money. Then I go to the bazaar and buy food for the children." Farid dropped his eyes.

"What happens to the children he takes?" I asked. Zaman rubbed his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. "Some times they come back."

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