On the anniversary of Bashar Assad’s fall, a small group of professionals gathered at Aznavour, a restaurant in Damascus’s Old City. Red light washed over stone walls as hookah smoke hung in the air and a television cycled through Arabic music videos. They had come to talk about what had changed in Syria — and what had rushed in to fill the space left by a regime that collapsed a year earlier. Three of them, women in their 20s, could barely reme…