Secrets have a way of slipping through the cracks.
Lena's mother found a folded note in her coat pocket. It was a poem — one Samir had written. The handwriting wasn't Lena's. Her parents confronted her during dinner, calm voices hiding cold fury.
"He's not one of us," her father said flatly. "You're young. This is just rebellion."
But Lena stood her ground. "I love him."
Her father's face turned to stone. "You will not see him again. Not while you live under this roof."
Meanwhile, Samir's brother had spotted them in a café downtown. He didn't say anything until they got home, but when he did, it was explosive.
"You're throwing away everything for some rich girl who doesn't understand our life?"
Samir didn't respond. He didn't need to. His silence said everything.
For the first time, the space between Lena and Samir became filled with more than longing. It was filled with fear.
---