Mary heard his words… and for a moment, something inside her went dark… as if even her courage was too afraid to come out again.
[Child's Card and Bare Hearts ]
Mustafa slowly opened his eyes, a faint ray of light reflecting in them, his breaths heavy and uneven, as if he were clinging to life by his very fingertips.
He tried to speak, but his voice came out faint and broken:
A… sip… water… thirsty…
The room froze, all eyes locked on him, fear and doubt battling for dominance on every face.
Mazn clenched his fists, his tone sharp as a blade:
Step away, Mari… if he's turning, I won't hesitate to drive a knife through his heart.
But Mari suddenly burst into a tearful laugh, her hands trembling as she squeezed his hand:
He made it… he's alive… thank God!
She knelt beside him, her eyes glimmering with a mix of joy and terror:
Do you… remember me?
Mustafa smiled faintly despite the pain, his eyelids half-closed:
Silly girl… I'm still alive… but my chest burns… thirsty like fire…
Mari trembled harder, her heart torn between hope and despair, but she rushed to say:
I'll make you bone broth… a little meat… just don't leave us too, please…
She ran toward the kitchen, but she could feel Mazn's gaze burning into her back…a gaze full of anger, confusion, and heavy guilt.
A voice whispered in his head:
I slapped her yesterday… and today she cries with joy because I'm alive… what kind of heart is this? And do I even deserve it after what I've done?
---
Minutes later, Mazn walked toward her, his steps slow, his voice low but sharp:
Let Farah cook… come with me, see the child.
Mari hesitated, her bloodstained hands trembling as she stirred the pot:
Just… let me put this on the fire…
Farah appeared suddenly, a tired smile on her face:
Go… I'll handle it.
Mari wiped her hands quickly, her heart pounding as she walked toward the corner… not knowing that moment would open a new door to horror.
---
She and Mazn approached the child. His clothes were torn, his face covered in the dust of battle, his half-closed eyes looking as if even sleep gave him no comfort.
Suddenly… Tala stepped in front of them, blocking the way like a wall of suspicion.
Mari knelt, placing a trembling hand on the boy's tiny chest, whispering anxiously:
It's real… heartbeat's normal… breathing's normal… he's just hungry…
Tala narrowed her eyes, her voice sharp:
And where did he come from? There's no way the system would throw a kid in here… unless… there's something wrong about him.
Mazn glanced at Mari, and their eyes met briefly, a tense, heavy look passing between them.
His gaze said it clearly: I don't trust this… but we don't have time to argue.
He exhaled sharply, then spoke firmly:
I'll go scout the area, maybe there's something else out there… Mari, stay with the boy.
He took a group of men with him, their footsteps heavy in the dark corridor, weapons clinking in tense silence.
Tala followed close behind, her head tilted slightly, her eyes narrowing as she shot one last glare toward Mari before turning away…
Her thoughts swirled, dark and venomous, a hateful whisper echoing in her mind:
One day… you'll regret this, Mari… and I'll be there to watch you break.
She quickened her pace, catching up to Mazn, her expression frozen on the outside but boiling with envy and malice within.
Mary held the baby tightly, her steps quick as she headed to the apartment kitchen.
Every sob from him pierced her heart, as if she had silently promised herself never to let him go hungry again.
She set him down on a small chair and began mashing some fruit with trembling yet gentle hands. That's when Majed approached, his voice hesitant:
Were you… married?
Mary looked up, startled, then let out a tired laugh:
Nooo! Why?
He smiled faintly:
You're unusually good at feeding babies…
She shook her head, a soft glimmer of old memories in her eyes:
I used to help my mom a lot raising my younger siblings… got used to it, I guess.
She lifted the baby into her arms, but he shifted slightly, as if hiding something in his clothes. That's when she noticed the corner of a small red card sticking out of his pocket. Her heart skipped a beat. She pulled it out slowly, eyes widening:
What's this?!
She handed it to Majed, her voice breathless with fear:
It looks just like the old woman's black card…!
Quickly, she placed the baby in his arms:
Stay with him… I won't be long!
Majed blinked in confusion:
But I….
She was already running, her heartbeat pounding louder than her footsteps.
When she reached Mustafa, sitting on a wooden chair, his face pale but alive, he gave her a faint smile:
As you can see… I'm better.
Mary knelt beside him, placing the card in his hand, her voice low but tense:
The baby… he's real. I found this card in his clothes. Maybe it's important… maybe it'll help you.
Mustafa turned the card over in his fingers, his brows furrowed:
But… it's blank.
That might make it even more dangerous… keep it safe.
A blush crept onto his cheeks as he nodded:
Of course… Can I see the baby?
Mary's lips curled into a small, tired smile:
Of course.
She helped him to his feet, letting him lean on her shoulder as they walked slowly together.
When they reached the living room, they found Majed nearly giving up, struggling to soothe the crying baby.
Both Mary and Mustafa couldn't help but laugh softly despite everything.
Mary took the baby gently, feeding him with patience and warmth.
And as soon as his tiny belly was full, his laughter spilled into the air…light, like little birds singing…cutting through the heaviness of the place, bringing with it the first true ray of life this hell had seen in a long, long time.