Three days after the fire, Simon buried Toma and Elik. He did not make it small. He bought proper coffins, paid for clean clothes, flowers, prayers, and a quiet place in the cemetery where the grass was soft. There were no parents to cry for them. No siblings came forward. Simon stood alone beside the graves, his face was hard, his hands folded, carrying the weight of being the only family they had left. By afternoon, Simon walked into the University of Betford. The campus was bright and full of life. Students sat under trees, laughed near food stands, shared drinks, and talked loudly about exams, relationships, and football. The noise felt strange to him after the silence of the cemetery. He had come to see the owner of the university cafeteria. Before the fire, Simon used to supplied fish there every week. Now there was no stall, no freezers, no boys, and no business left to supply anymore fish. As he crossed the relaxation spot, he stopped. A young woman sat alone on a ben

For the first time, Mrs. Dalia Trent did not see a poor man standing before her. She saw something that looked ready to bury her arrogance. Still, pride made her stubborn. She adjusted her glasses and forced a smile, though her fingers no longer looked steady on the desk. “You want the school account details?” she asked. “Fine. Let me see what kind of miracle a burnt and frustrated fish supplier wants to perform.” She pulled a sheet of paper from a drawer, wrote the account details slowly, then pushed it across the counter with two fingers. “Here,” she said. “But let me warn you, the university does not give loans to beggars.” Dalia folded her arms and watched him carefully. She expected embarrassment. She expected hesitation. Most people who stood where Simon was standing eventually lowered their heads and admitted defeat. In her years behind that desk, she had become used to watching desperate families break apart under financial pressure. Some cried. Some begged. S

The only question was whether Simon’s demand was powerful enough to force the university president into making an impossible decision. For several seconds, the president did not speak. The silence from the phone filled the bursary office like smoke. Dalia stood frozen behind her desk, staring at Simon as if she could still wake up from what was happening. At last, the president cleared his throat. “Sir, I understand your concern, but one and a half million dollars is a very large pledge. Before I take such a serious administrative action, I need to confirm the authenticity of your capacity as a donor.” Dalia’s eyes brightened at once. Hope returned to her face like a thief slipping through a half-open door. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, of course.” Simon turned his eyes toward her. “You look relieved.” Dalia forced a shaky smile. “Because serious institutions do not sack staff over empty talk. Anyone can call himself a donor when they are not financially capable.” One of he

Luke’s laughter echoed across the cafeteria road. His employees laughed with him, eager to please the man who signed their paychecks. A few students nearby stopped walking and turned their heads toward the growing confrontation. The atmosphere felt strange, like everyone sensed something important was about to happen. “You hear that?” Luke said, pointing at Simon. “The man who lost everything is threatening me.” The employees burst into another round of laughter. One of them shook his head. “Boss, I think grief has damaged him.” “Not grief,” another replied. “I believe it is Jealousy.” Luke nodded dramatically. “Exactly. Jealousy.” He folded his arms and studied Simon like a doctor examining a patient. “You know what your problem is?” Luke asked. “You are frustrated. That is all. Your business is gone. Your workers are gone. Your wife threw you away. Now you are looking for somebody to transfer your aggression to.” Simon remained silent. Luke suddenly raised both ha

Luke's heart skipped.The color drained from his face so quickly that even his employees noticed it. "What do you mean frozen?" Luke shouted into the phone. "Why are you telling me this now?"The banker sighed heavily. "Because it is the truth, Luke.""What truth?" Luke snapped. "There must be some mistake.""There is no mistake."Luke's grip tightened around the phone. "How did they find out?" he demanded. "How did they even know about the tax issue?"The banker was quiet for a second. "I honestly don't know," he admitted. "I did everything possible to keep those records hidden. The transactions were buried. The reports were altered. The accounts were separated."A chill ran through Luke's body. "Then how?" he whispered."Someone knew," the banker said. "Someone has known about this for a very long time."Luke slowly looked toward Simon.Simon simply stood there watching him.Calm.Silent.Patient.Luke felt something ugly settle in his stomach. "What do I do now?" he asked desperate