In the ear­ly morn­ing, at half-past three, the pro­tag­o­nist, Leighton, is jolt­ed awake by the creak of her bed­room door, surg­ing fear cours­ing through her as rem­nants of a night­mare linger. She reas­sures her­self that it was just a bad dream — her sis­ters are safe, and her moth­er is okay. Just then, her younger sis­ter Juniper appears, seek­ing com­fort amidst the unset­tling nois­es from out­side the room. Leighton encour­ages her to climb into bed.

How­ev­er, the muf­fled voic­es from down­stairs con­tin­ue to dis­turb her, indi­cat­ing a brew­ing ten­sion. Juniper, feel­ing rest­less, opts to play a game called “Any­where But Here,” a form of men­tal escape from the dis­tress out­side. As they begin to set­tle in, the old­er sis­ter Camp­bell reluc­tant­ly joins in, reflect­ing the heavy mood in the room.

As they engage in their imag­i­na­tive game, where they describe idyl­lic places like the Galá­pa­gos Islands and Lon­don, the atmos­phere is dis­rupt­ed by a loud crash down­stairs, abrupt­ly height­en­ing their fear. They instinc­tive­ly hud­dle clos­er, with Juniper near­ly chok­ing back a cry. Real­iz­ing that the dis­trac­tion isn’t enough, they seek refuge in their grandmother’s armoire, stash­ing away items to cre­ate a cozy hide­out. Leighton retrieves a kerosene lantern, rem­i­nis­cent of their grand­fa­ther’s, and lights it, illu­mi­nat­ing their small sanc­tu­ary.

Inside the cramped space, they cre­ate shad­ow pup­pets, their laughs and imag­i­na­tions momen­tar­i­ly replac­ing the fear creep­ing in from out­side. Leighton recalls how their father taught her this game long ago when nights were filled with sim­pler fears. The sis­ters, lost in their play­ful shadows—puppeteering ani­mals on the wall—find solace in their tem­po­rary world amidst the loom­ing threat out­side.

How­ev­er, as the flick­er­ing lantern light dims and the real­i­ty of their sit­u­a­tion returns, Leighton remains alert, stead­fast in ensur­ing her sis­ters feel safe. She blows out the lantern’s flame, plung­ing them back into dark­ness while they silent­ly face the uncer­tain­ty that chal­lenges their sanctuary—a tes­ta­ment to their unyield­ing bond in the face of adver­si­ty.

**Chap­ter Thir­teen Sum­ma­ry**

In this chap­ter, we wit­ness Broth­er Leon con­duct­ing a roll call in a seem­ing­ly cheer­ful man­ner, high­light­ing the con­trast with The Goober’s inner tur­moil. Broth­er Leon rel­ish­es being in con­trol, encour­ag­ing school spir­it in the wake of the ongo­ing choco­late sale. How­ev­er, The Goober is grap­pling with the after­math of the Room Nine­teen inci­dent, which has left him in a state of depres­sion and shock. Ini­tial­ly, he enjoyed a brief peri­od of recog­ni­tion as an under­ground hero among fel­low stu­dents. Yet, as time passed, rumors began to swirl, cre­at­ing a dis­tance between him and his peers. The Goober feels iso­lat­ed, grap­pling with guilt and appre­hen­sion about the con­se­quences of the inci­dent.

As Broth­er Leon calls out names, Goober feels increas­ing­ly ner­vous, sens­ing the scruti­ny direct­ed at him. Despite his anx­i­ety, he accepts the chal­lenge of sell­ing fifty box­es of choco­lates, eager to escape the spot­light. The chap­ter cap­tures Goober’s thoughts on the destruc­tion of Room Nine­teen, reflect­ing a guilt that he can­not shake off, par­tic­u­lar­ly regard­ing Broth­er Eugene’s fate. The room’s sub­se­quent repair brings him lit­tle com­fort, as it serves as a harsh reminder of the tur­moil.

A piv­otal moment aris­es when Leon calls upon Jer­ry Renault. In a sur­pris­ing twist, Jer­ry refus­es to par­tic­i­pate in the choco­late sale, mark­ing a sig­nif­i­cant act of defi­ance against Broth­er Leon and the school’s tra­di­tions. The Goober watch­es in dis­be­lief as silence envelops the class­room, rec­og­niz­ing the weight of Jer­ry’s rejec­tion. This builds ten­sion as Broth­er Leon responds with mixed emo­tions, try­ing to main­tain author­i­ty while vis­i­bly shak­en.

Ulti­mate­ly, Broth­er Leon dis­miss­es the class while main­tain­ing an unset­tling smile, reveal­ing a stark divi­sion between those who com­ply and those who rebel. The chap­ter ends with a poignant reflec­tion on cama­raderie, coer­cion, and indi­vid­u­al­i­ty amidst the pres­sure of con­for­mi­ty. The emo­tion­al land­scape becomes more com­plex as stu­dents grap­ple with their iden­ti­ties with­in the school sys­tem, fore­shad­ow­ing deep­er con­flicts to come.

Chap­ter Thir­teen of “The Bread­win­ner” unfolds the chal­lenges Par­vana faces as she deals with sig­nif­i­cant changes in her life, par­tic­u­lar­ly regard­ing her sis­ter Noo­ri­a’s upcom­ing mar­riage and depar­ture to Mazar-e-Sharif for a new life away from the Tal­iban oppres­sion preva­lent in Kab­ul. The chap­ter begins with Par­vana query­ing Noo­ria about whether she tru­ly wants to leave their home and fam­i­ly behind. Noo­ria express­es her frus­tra­tion with the cur­rent sit­u­a­tion, reveal­ing her hopes for an edu­ca­tion and a brighter future in a place where girls can attend school with­out fear.

As the fam­i­ly pre­pares for the wed­ding, Par­vana feels exclud­ed and anx­ious about her father’s where­abouts, fear­ing what might hap­pen if he gets released from prison and can­not find them. Despite her protests, Moth­er insists that Par­vana must accom­pa­ny them to Mazar for the cer­e­mo­ny, high­light­ing the author­i­ty of par­ents over chil­dren and the com­plex­i­ties of famil­ial respon­si­bil­i­ties dur­ing tumul­tuous times. Par­vana’s rebel­lious spir­it is evi­dent as she express­es her dis­sat­is­fac­tion and stamps her feet in frus­tra­tion, to which her moth­er responds with author­i­ta­tive grace.

Even­tu­al­ly, the deci­sion is made to leave Par­vana in Kab­ul with Mrs. Weera for her safe­ty, as tak­ing her along could risk expos­ing her gen­der due to her boy­ish dis­guise. Par­vana feels con­flict­ed; while she is relieved to stay behind, she is sad­dened that her sis­ter is leav­ing. As Noo­ria pre­pares to depart, Par­vana gifts her a pen, a sym­bol of sup­port and con­nec­tion that would remind Noo­ria of her when she becomes a teacher.

The morn­ing of their depar­ture is bit­ter­sweet, filled with good­byes and emo­tion­al moments. Parvana’s world tem­porar­i­ly shrinks to just her­self, Mrs. Weera, and her grand­child in the days fol­low­ing their leav­ing, mak­ing her real­ize the empti­ness of their absence. She starts to recon­nect with her father’s books and her own iden­ti­ty, enjoy­ing new­found free­dom yet deeply miss­ing her fam­i­ly. After a rain­storm traps her in a bombed build­ing, Par­vana reflects on her iso­la­tion and vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty but ulti­mate­ly falls asleep, only to be awak­ened by the sound of a woman cry­ing, sig­nal­ing a shift in her nar­ra­tive again. The chap­ter cap­tures themes of fam­i­ly dynam­ics, per­son­al aspi­ra­tions amidst soci­etal con­straints, and the strug­gles of grow­ing up in a war-torn land.