I deeply regret my actions. I feel terrible. In truth, Larbi is as much a victim as I am in all this.
He touches his nose, wincing in pain. If I offer to help, he’ll probably tell me to go to hell—and he’d be right. Best to stay quiet.
“I’m truly sorry for what I put you through, Larbi. I never meant for it to go this way.”
I start heading to the door but stop and turn to face him.
“I have one favor to ask—even though I don’t deserve anything from you. Don’t tell Hakim I know he started the fire. Please.”
He gives me a look of disappointment that paralyzes me.
“How could you think I wanted to hurt you when I’ve always defended you, always respected you—not once did I see you as weak compared to the others in the gang? I believe you when you say you’re sorry, because you rarely apolog
