2025-08-06 21:17:50
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Chapter 12, The Rich Fool.
Zaid kept a safe distance as Ayman reached an abandoned lot near the edge of the district. The air smelled of concrete and cigarette smoke. A lone streetlight flickered overhead, casting long shadows. A man stepped out from behind a rusted shipping container, tall, with a scar running down his cheek. His cold eyes scanned the area before settling on Ayman. "Abo Marzoq," Ayman said, his voice uncharacteristically tense. The man, Abo Marzoq, nodded. They spoke in hushed tones, their words swallowed by the distant hum of traffic. Zaid strained to listen, but all he caught were fragments, something about "next shipment" and "no mistakes this time." Then, Ayman reached into his bag and handed over the thick envelope. Abo Marzoq weighed it in his hand before tucking it inside his jacket. Without another word, he turned and vanished into the maze of alleyways. Ayman exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the ground. Then, as
Chapter 11, Suspicious Meeting.
The next day, Zaid sat in art class, his mind still heavy with thoughts of his mother and the task looming over him. Across the table, Bassam was carefully layering watercolors onto his paper, creating a breathtaking landscape, rolling green hills, a soft sunset bleeding into a lavender sky, and delicate strokes suggesting a distant forest. The art teacher.paused behind Bassam’s chair, her eyes widening. "This is exceptional, Bassam," he said, genuine admiration in his voice. "The way you blend the colors, it’s almost lifelike." Bassam grinned "It’s all about the layers," he explained, turning to Zaid. "You start with light washes, let them dry, then build up the shadows. Watercolor is patience, you know?" Zaid nodded, pretending to understand. "Yeah, layers. Got it." The teacher moved to Zaid’s side, peering down at his half-finished sketch, a clumsy attempt at a tree, the lines shaky, the shading uneven. His lips pursed. "Zaid," he said gently, though his tone carried a hi
Chapter 10, A Son's Choice.
The afternoon sun sent a warm glow through the small kitchen window as Zaid's mother unwrapped the gift he had brought her. Her fingers brushed against the soft red fabric of the scarf, her eyes lighting up with surprise and warmth. "Oh, Zaid," she murmured, draping it around her shoulders. "It's beautiful. But where did you get the money for this?" Zaid shifted slightly, avoiding her gaze. "I Just... saved up from my allowance," he lied. His mother sighed, shaking her head. "You didn't have to get me anything, habibi. I want you to use that money for yourself. Don't worry about me." "But I want to," Zaid insisted, his voice firm. "You do everything for me. This is nothing compared to that." His mother smiled, cupping his face in her hands. "Just seeing you happy is enough for me." She then turned back to the stove, where the rich, spiced aroma of Maqloba filled the air, layers of rice, tender chicken, and golden fried eggplant and vegetables, all cooked to perfection. Zai
Chapter 9, The Unexpected Visit.
The weekend sun hung high in the sky as Zaid walked through the familiar streets toward his mother's apartment, a small gift bag swinging from his fingers. He had used some of the money from his completed tasks to buy her something nice, a small token of appreciation for everything she had done for him. His heart swelled at the thought of surprising her.But as he turned the corner onto her street, his steps faltered.There, standing near the entrance of the apartment building, was his father, a man he hadn't seen in years. Beside him stood a woman Zaid didn't recognize, her arm linked with his father's in a way that made his stomach twist.Zaid ducked behind a nearby wall, his pulse quickening. He didn't understand what was happening, but he needed to know.The woman's voice carried softly through the air. "Are you sure this is the right place, dear?"Zaid's breath caught. Dear?His father nodded, his expression unreadable. "This is it."They approached the door to his mother's apart
Chapter 8, Standing Up To The System.
The days passed in tense silence. Zaid kept his head down, pretending to focus on his schoolwork, but his mind was elsewhere always watching, always waiting. The memory of Salim being dragged into that van haunted him. He had to know more.On Friday afternoon, as the final bell rang and students flooded the halls, Zaid lingered near the lockers, his phone hidden in his palm, recording discreetly. The group of Blue Card bullies led by the same tall, sneering boy who had tormented Salim before gathered near the school gates, laughing loudly."You ready for tonight?" one of them asked, nudging his friend."Oh, it's gonna be good," another replied, cracking his knuckles. "Salim's got a special surprise waiting for him."Zaid's stomach twisted. He waited until they started moving, then followed at a distance, keeping to the shadows.The bullies led him to a run-down part of town, where graffiti-covered walls and broken streetlights created long, eerie shadows. At the end of a narrow alley
Chapter 7, The Engineer's Legacy.
The dormitory door clicked shut behind them, sealing Zaid and Bassam in the familiar, cramped space that smelled of old textbooks and the faint mildew of their shared bathroom. Bassam immediately slumped onto his narrow bed, the springs creaking under his weight, while Zaid remained standing, arms crossed."What did Fares want with you?" Zaid asked, his voice low but urgent. He kept glancing at the door as if expecting someone to burst through it.Bassam ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "His father," he began, his voice carefully controlled, "is some hotshot businessman. Used to be one of my father's biggest rivals." He reached under his pillow, pulling out a worn photograph of a serious-looking man in glasses. "My uncle warned me about people like this."Zaid moved closer, sitting on the edge of his own bed. The mattress sagged beneath him. "So what? What do they want from you?""Fares didn't know who I was that first day," Bassam explained, his fingers tightening aroun
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