Even Sylvia — who, compared to the other women, hadn't been as close to Aziz during the five years he had devoted entirely to his training — felt a pang of jealousy upon hearing the words he spoke to Sofia and Zia.
And Stella too. Though her expression remained composed, inwardly, in her heart, she felt a flicker of envy. The words Aziz had spoken reached her more deeply than she would have liked to admit.
Yet she quickly regained her composure, shifting her gaze to her daughter, who now smiled with parted lips, seemingly intoxicated. It was a dazed and dreamy smile, suspended between enchantment and shyness — one meant solely for Aziz.
Aziz, who still held Sofia and Zia in a warm embrace, suddenly felt a shiver run down his spine. This wasn't just any sensation — it was familiar, intimate, and unmistakable. He knew exactly what it meant.
He turned his head slowly, as though confronting a long-held premonition — and saw her. His beloved mother.
