Shortly after the visit, the ten women were called and were taken to Chowgan Square by a mini bus to be executed by hanging, and the bodies were delivered to the morgue at 10pm. 

The driver of the mini bus that took these innocent souls to the place of their execution had said: “It was not obvious at all that these women were supposed to be going for execution by hanging. At first I thought they must have been released and that is why they are happy and laughing, but after I stopped at the gate of the prison for inspection, I found out that I am taking these ladies to be hanged. They laughed and chanted prayers the whole way…” 

The next day the families went to claim the bodies of the six men at the morgue when it was noticed that the ten women were hanged the night before. Upon hearing the news and confirmation that both Ezzat and Roya were among them Rozita returned to the morgue. With insistence they managed to visit those innocent bodies.

“The officer in charge of the morgue, despite the fact that he had been punished for his illegal act yesterday (allowing friends to visit the bodies of the six men), and although he knew he will be in trouble again, opened the big door to us with the big sign on it saying ‘entry is strictly prohibited’. He took us to a big hall, where those innocent and holy bodies were lying in silence in that cold morgue.

The faces of the bodies had completely changed. I recognized Roya from her clothes - white and red stripe trousers, with one grey sock that was down. Her left hand was on her forehead like someone who is sleeping. She had worn her flowery dark blue overcoat and chador (the big cloth to wear on top of clothes) and the execution blindfold was on her forehead. Her face had swollen, looked bruised, and the trace of the noose was clear. Her face was tilted towards left, eyes closed and the lips, just a tiny bit open. On her hands were the traces of clotted blood and her body was cold, but still soft. I kissed Roya, and automatically said, thank you Roya, thank you my sister.

Then I got up to look for Mamman, and the more I looked, the less I found. I did not recognise anyone. The people, who I had seen for seven months in the visits, and knew them even before that, were not recognisable to me. I saw an elderly lady with almost grey hair that her chador had gone aside, lying near another girl. I thought to myself, O God, who is she? We didn’t have such a lady among the prisoners. Then I looked at her clothes and saw a beautiful colour scarf tied loosely around her. O my God, this was my Mamman, with the same scarf that I had taken to her. I sat beside her, kissed her face, placed my hands on her shoulder and said, thank you Mamman, merci, merci (thank you, thank you).

I touched her hands, her veins that were clear under her thin skin, told the story of her suffering in her life, they were very cold. She was wearing cream colour socks, with black and white trousers and an overcoat, the creamy orange colour scarf around her neck, and her chador was around her. Her face tilted towards right, her mouth was a bit open, as well as her right eye. Her hands were next to her. They were oppressed, but strong. I looked at everyone so I can keep them in my mind. When I kissed Mamman, the officer in charge of the morgue came over to me and asked what my relation to her was. I said, ‘My mother, and come and see my sister’, and I took him to show Roya. He knew that I had come for Baba the day before. Tears welled up in his eyes, took my hand and said: ‘Why are you standing here, go outside, go outside.’ We all went out.

Around noon time the ambulance took the bodies to the cemetery and unceremoniously threw their innocent bodies with the same clothes in some graves they had previously dug and filled it with soil. After that they disrupted the whole area so no one would know where their graves where or whose grave it was.