"Rabia is watching me from a distance. She's been watching me closely since I got back from Islamabad last week after Beema's mother's funeral. She doesn't know whether to trust that I'm well.
I'm not well, but I 'm getting there. I still wake up some nights screaming from dreams of Omi. I still miss Ed. I find myself weeping uncontrollably in moments when I least expect it, and I know it's for Mama. But already I can feel this begin to pass into a quieter grief, one that will become part of my character without destroying me.
I make that sound so easy. Nothing about this has been easy. But somehow I find I really am strong enough to bear it. And I recognize how remarkable, and how unearned, a gift that is."
From Broken Verses by Kamila Shamsie