The mother with an important but dangerous job sat down to write a goodbye letter to her two young daughters. Just in case, she thought. The Taliban could get lucky this time and finally kill her.
Fawzia Koofi, who is campaigning for the presidency of Afghanistan, began by writing this to her 10- and 12-year-old.
"Today I am going on political business to Faizabad and Darwaz. I hope I will come back soon and see you again, but I have to say that perhaps I will not."
If she didn't come home, she wrote little Shuhra and Shaharzad, they should take their mother's advice on how to get on without her.
"First," she wrote, "don't forget me."
Finish school, live independently, stay with your aunt, study abroad. All the money their mother has in the bank, it's all theirs. Spend it wisely, on school.
"A girl needs an education if she is to excel in this man's world."
Explore the world. Be brave. Make your country a better place.
"All of us human beings will die one day," Koofi wrote. "Maybe today is the day I will die. But if I do, please know that it was for a purpose."
Despite her security detail receiving a message that the Taliban had planted a bomb under her car, she went, and made it back home safely. This is Koofi, someone who believes without question, even since childhood, that purpose has always guided her. Luck was just something that always showed up when she needed it.
She had come from a place where nothing was expected of a woman to being the first female elected to Afghanistan's Parliament, a body reformed after the war. Every outing was a risk.
An episode in 2010 proved that. As Koofi's convoy traveled near Kabul, shots were fired at cars carrying her, her daughters and sister. Her security fired back. It was a chaotic nightmare, but they made it out alive.
The close call with death is one of many detailed in her new memoir "The Favored Daughter," released as buzz began building about her campaign to become President Hamid Karzai's successor.
The country's presidential election is slated for 2014. Under the latest timetable, all U.S. troops are supposed to be gone from the country then.
Shuhra and Shaharzad were so young back then. They were too young to remember like their mother does an Afghanistan that, under Taliban rule, forbade girls to go to school and sanctioned the murder of women perceived to have shamed their male relatives. Her girls will only hear of the days when the Taliban ordered homeowners in some parts of Afghanistan to darken their windows so the women inside could not be seen.
"My daughters always feel that I am very exceptional in Afghanistan," Koofi said last weekend near Kabul.
It was bright out, and she squinted into the sun. Her face lit up when she talked about her daughters. She seemed relaxed and warm, perhaps an unexpected state for a woman who receives constant death threats and changes her phone number all the time. The pressure does get to her, though.
"It's a very difficult life for a woman, to be a woman alone in Afghanistan, to be a mother, to be a single mother and to be a woman politician," she said, adjusting her navy headscarf when the breeze catches it.
She still laughs as she said in fluent English, "I get overwhelmed. I get overwhelmed 10 times a day."
When that happens, she take a few minutes to be alone. And then she turns to her children.
"I forget everything when I'm with my daughters and we watch TV or watch the news."
She'll sit with them as they message their friends on Facebook.
"Sometimes they are proud of me, and especially when I go to foreign countries," Koofi said. "I tell them that if I don't go, there is no money, so I have to go and raise money for schools for other girls."
Shuhra and Shaharzad like to tell their classmates, "My mother builds schools," she said.
But there are also some mornings when one of her girls will tug at her arm.