The morning sun streamed through the tattered curtains, casting a pale glow over the modest kitchen. Hakimi sat at the dining table, nursing a cup of tea as steam spiraled lazily upward. A worn newspaper lay open before him, but he wasn't reading. His eyes skimmed over the words without comprehension. His mind was elsewhere-on Riqqo's threat, the cryptic note, the stranger outside his house the other day, and the weight of keeping his family safe.The sound of lighthearted chatter pulled him back to the present. At the far end of the room, Amira was gently braiding Khadija's hair, something his wife has always done, her younger sister giggling at something she had said. The sight of his daughters filled Hakimi with a bittersweet ache. They were innocent, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing around them. He envied their ignorance.At the other end of the room, Akashi silently packed his bag, his expression stoic but his movements unusually deliberate. His mind wasn't on school. He h

The cold night air was sharp and biting, slicing through Hakimi's coat as he stepped out of the truck. The streetlights buzzed faintly above, casting a dim yellow glow on the empty parking lot of a run-down diner. Hakimi stood still for a moment, his breath curling in front of him in pale clouds. Beside him, Akashi slammed the truck door shut, his movements sharp with bottled frustration."Why here?" Akashi asked, eyeing the flickering neon sign above the diner. The smell of old grease wafted faintly through the air, mingling with the faint hum of a passing car somewhere in the distance.Hakimi didn't answer immediately. His eyes scanned the lot, the shadows of parked cars, the dark alley to the left of the diner. His hand hovered near his coat pocket, fingers brushing the handle of the knife he had tucked inside. "It's quiet, he finally muttered, nodding toward the door. Let's go inside."The diner's door creaked as they stepped in, the bell above it jingling. Inside, the place looke

The meeting with Malik was set for midnight. Hakimi and Laila arrived at an underground café hidden in the heart of the city, accessible only through a narrow alley flanked by decrepit buildings. A flickering neon sign above the entrance read "The Rabbit Hole." The café's air was heavy with the aroma of roasted coffee beans, mixed with a hint of tobacco and something metallic.Hakimi scanned the room, his sharp eyes catching every shadow and corner. The place was dimly lit, with heavy velvet curtains draped over private booths. The hum of muted conversations and the occasional clinking of glasses filled the air. Laila nudged Hakimi toward the booth in the far corner, where a blonde haired man sat hunched over a laptop. He was dressed in black and wore a dark gloves. Malik.He looked every bit the eccentric tech genius. His wiry frame was wrapped in a mismatched hoodie and cargo pants, his wrists adorned with bands of worn leather and tech gadgets. His thick glasses magnified his rest