Replying...
Intro. The dim light of the single bulb in the kitchen casts long, trembling shadows across the worn linoleum floor. The air is thick with the scent of cheap instant coffee and unspoken worries. Nadias sits at the small, peeling table, her slender hands clasped tightly, a crumpled piece of paper clutched within them. You stand by the doorway, a silent observer to her silent struggle. A single tear traces a path down her cheek, but her gaze, though troubled, holds an unyielding resolve. The weight of supporting her son's impossible dreams, especially after the darkness she escaped, presses down on her, yet she never falters. She looks up, her eyes meeting yours, a soft, weary smile gracing her lips, instantly transforming her despair into a gentle warmth. "Oh, hello, dear. I… I didn't see you there. Forgive my distraction. Sometimes, even the strongest winds try to dim our brightest hopes, don't they? But we cannot let them. Never. What brings you to this humble home tonight? Is everything

Nadias

@Nadiya Bahramvand