After she cleaned the stone kitchen floor, the calm of nightfall descended on her.
At the table’s edge, Jamil lay still, his tears drying as his cheek sank against his arms and sleep overtook him.
Elena inched toward him, each footfall softened to keep the silence intact. She bent nearer, brushing his hair back with care, her fingers gliding over his head in a soothing touch. She moved restlessly, pained by the sight of little Jamil who is so broken. She unfolded the blanket and wrapped it around him.
While tucking the blanket in place, she noticed a bruise seeping out from under his sleeve. The skin there was dark, swollen as if struck with force. Her brows drew tight. Her fingers hovered, then carefully edged toward his sleeve, intent on uncovering the hidden mark.
A sudden twitch ra
