2025-08-13 22:18:21
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Chapter 14, The Fight.
After reading the message, Zaid tried hard to forget it. He tried hard to forget the amount and not think about what he could do with the money, but he failed. After many attempts to distract himself throughout the day and avoid thinking about it, he eventually found himself browsing an online store, looking at prices for women's watches to buy his mother a new one to replace the one he had accidentally broken two years ago. She still hadn't gotten a replacement, and he hadn't been able to fix the old one.His last desperate attempt was to immerse himself in Karam and Faris's conversation about sports cars, debating with them about which model was best as if he were an expert. Bassam was even shocked and almost believed Zaid actually knew a lot about the subject.By the end of the day, Zaid surrendered and admitted the reality: he had turned into a very materialistic person, maybe even a money-hungry dog. To ease his guilt, he convinced himself that the reason was the bad economic sit
Chapter 13, The New Hobby.
Zaid was leaving his math class when he spotted Ayman on the phone, laughing loudly. "He must be talking to that sneaky girlfriend of his," Zaid thought.As soon as Ayman ended the call, he immediately dialed another number—his parents. Zaid lingered close enough to eavesdrop."Baba, I need you to send more money to my Visa card," Ayman said, his tone casual, as if asking for pocket change. "Just a little extra this time."Zaid's eyes widened. The amount Ayman was requesting was absurd—no school student would ask for that much, not even a spoiled rich kid.On the other end, his father must have refused, because Ayman's voice sharpened. "No, listen! it's completely reasonable! I'm working on charity projects to boost my GPA. Volunteer points, remember? I just need a small budget to get started."Zaid raised his eyebrows. Charity projects? Since when did Ayman care about that? The lies were so bold, he almost admired the audacity.After a few minutes of back-and-forth, Ayman's voice su
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
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