The morning sun streamed through the tattered curtains, casting a pale glow over the modest kitchen. Hakimi sat at the dining table, nursing a cup of tea as steam spiraled lazily upward. A worn newspaper lay open before him, but he wasn't reading. His eyes skimmed over the words without comprehension. His mind was elsewhere-on Riqqo's threat, the cryptic note, the stranger outside his house the other day, and the weight of keeping his family safe.The sound of lighthearted chatter pulled him back to the present. At the far end of the room, Amira was gently braiding Khadija's hair, something his wife has always done, her younger sister giggling at something she had said. The sight of his daughters filled Hakimi with a bittersweet ache. They were innocent, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing around them. He envied their ignorance.At the other end of the room, Akashi silently packed his bag, his expression stoic but his movements unusually deliberate. His mind wasn't on school. He h