The rain had been falling since dawn, tapping softly against the windows of the small apartment where Amina lived with her husband Malik and his aging father, Baba Suleiman. The house was never silent anymore. Every corner carried tension like smoke trapped in a closed room.
Amina sat quietly at the dining table, staring at the untouched plate of rice in front of her. Across from her, Malik ate without saying much, his eyes fixed on his food as though avoiding the storm brewing beside him.
Under the table, Baba Suleiman crouched on his knees, wiping spilled water from the floor with an old cloth.
To a stranger, it would have looked humiliating.
But the truth inside that house was far more complicated.
Three years earlier, Baba Suleiman had been one of the most respected men in their village. He owned farmland, raised cattle, and built a successful transport business from nothing. People admired him because he had survived poverty and turned hardship into wealth.
But success changed his children.
When money filled the family accounts, everyone called him “Father.” Everyone praised his wisdom. His older sons visited every weekend with gifts and loud laughter.
Then the accident happened.
One late evening, while driving home during a thunderstorm, Baba Suleiman’s truck overturned on a mountain road. He survived, but his leg was permanently injured. Worse, the crash destroyed most of his business. Debts swallowed his savings, and within a year, nearly everything was gone.
That was when the family disappeared.
His older sons stopped answering calls. His daughters claimed their husbands “didn’t want involvement in financial problems.” Friends vanished. Relatives suddenly became too busy.
