Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15 Page 16 Page 17 Page 18 Page 19 Page 20 Page 21 Page 22 Page 23 Page 24 Page 25 Page 26 Page 27 Page 28 Page 29 Page 30 Page 31 Page 32 Page 33 Page 34 Page 35 Page 36 Page 37 Page 38 Page 39 Page 40 Page 41 Page 42 Page 43 Page 44 Page 45 Page 46 Page 47 Page 48 Page 49 Page 50 Page 51 Page 52 Page 53 Page 54 Page 55 Page 56 Page 57 Page 58 Page 59 Page 60 Page 61 Page 62 Page 63 Page 64 Page 65 Page 66 Page 67 Page 68 Page 69 Page 70 Page 71 Page 72 Page 73 Page 74 Page 75 Page 7628 Plough Quarterly • Summer 2015 Nada’s father, Ahmad, takes me down the shrapnel-strewn steps of their home, gesturing at a blue bicycle under the stairs. I’m per- plexed–it’s just an old bike . . . Ahmad speaks in rapid Arabic. When bombs started falling two weeks ago, he hurried his pregnant wife and two of his five daughters under these stairs to be safe from falling debris, moving the bike out of the way. Then he rushed upstairs for his other three daughters. Pausing a long moment, Ahmad points at the door behind me. I turn and see shrapnel holes big as dinner plates. I turn slowly back, realization dawning: There are matching holes behind the bicycle; the same shrapnel had torn through his wife and daughters. Ahmad can’t forgive himself for hiding them here. The bike was unharmed. The two girls, age three and thirteen, died immediately; their mother took longer. Ahmad has only just finished cleaning up under the stairs. He’s put the bike back, because–he shrugs sadly–he doesn’t know what else to do with it. Of his surviving daughters, two remain in the hospital with severe injuries, while Nada is physically unhurt but emotionally broken. Ahmad asks my advice. What can he say to Nada to make things right again for her? Eleven-year-old Omar argued with his cousin Fatima. She was nine, and the two of them had been playing together at Omar’s home that morning. Fatima ran home, upset by their quarrel. Soon after she arrived back home, a shell hit her house. It killed the entire family. Omar believed Fatima’s death was his fault. If they hadn’t argued . . . If he hadn’t upset her . . . If, if, if . . . Photograph by Anas Baba / Save the Children Nada, age five. Her mother and two sisters were killed in an airstrike on their home in Gaza.