witnesses　who　said

he　fled　to　the　mountains　with　his　own　men　after　he　became　separated　from　a

division　of　the　army。　In　the　beginning；　I　suspected　a　scheme　and　hoped　he’d

return；　but　after　two　years；　I　slowly　grew　accustomed　to　his　absence；　and　when

I realized how many lonely women like me with missing soldier…husbands

there　were　in　Istanbul；　I　resigned　myself　to　my　fate。

At night； in our beds； we’d hug our children and mope and cry。 To quiet

their tears； I’d tell them hopeful lies； for example； that so…and…so had proof

their father would return before spring。 Afterward； when my lie would

circulate；　changing　and　spreading　until　it　found　its　way　back　to　me；　I’d　be　the

first　to　believe　the　good　news。

When the main support of the household vanished； we fell upon hard

times。 We were living in a rented house in Charsh？kap？ with my husband’s

gentlemanly　Abkhazian　father；　who’d　never　lived　an　easy　life；　and　his　brother；

who had green eyes as well。 My father…in…law； who left his mirror…making

business　after　his　oldest　son　made　his　fortune　soldiering；　returned　to　take　up

his trade at a late age。 Hasan； my husband’s bachelor brother； worked in

customs；　and　as　he　prospered　he　made　plans　to　assume　the　role　of　“man　of

the　house。”　One　winter；　fearing　they　wouldn’t　be　able　to