Yet Shirin knew that the woman she’d been was gone. She was now divided into parts, many parts, a small piece of her belonging to each of the four men in her life—her father, her husband, her two sons. If she had to choose, if Cyrus forced her to, she knew who she would choose. As if he knew what she was thinking and was afraid to push her, Cyrus, too, fell quiet. They drove home the rest of the way in silence, the sound of Remy’s breathing filling the car.
