The Cursed Morning
The morning at Hussein's villa was undisturbingly quiet.
The sunlight filtered timidly through the heavy curtains, as if afraid to enter a place haunted by recurring curses.
In the living room, Amal sat in a chair facing the window—her face pale, her eyes weary from sleepless nights and tears. Beside her sat Sophia, silent, as if her voice alone might awaken something slumbering within the walls.
Amal spoke harshly, her gaze lost in the void before her.
“Hussein has gone to church… he wants to become a monk. Even Hussein—whom I thought would only leave me through death—is gone. As I told you before, (Sophia), fate doesn't favor me. Nothing I love lasts.”
Sophia arrived and gently placed a hand on her aunt's shoulder, trying to comfort her. But her face betrayed a d
