In a poor Afghan village in 1952, a father tells his two children a bedtime fable about a farmer forced to give up one child to save the rest. The next day he sets out with ten-year-old Abdullah and his little sister Pari on a journey to Kabul — a trip that will separate the devoted siblings and send tremors through the lives of everyone connected to them for the next half-century.
From that single act, Khaled Hosseini's third novel branches outward across continents and generations: to the wealthy household that reshapes Pari's fate, to a servant whose loyalty carries its own longing, to a Greek doctor drawn to a war-scarred Kabul, and to the children and grandchildren who inherit the consequences of choices made long before their birth. Each chapter shifts perspective and moves through time, and the connections between them accumulate into a portrait of how love, sacrifice, and separation echo across a family and a country.
Spanning Afghanistan, Paris, California, and Greece, And the Mountains Echoed is a tender, expansive meditation on the ties that bind and the distances that grow between them. It confirmed Hosseini as one of contemporary fiction's most beloved storytellers of family and displacement.