There was a crowd of people gathered around something, whispering in low voices, and some were taking pictures. Faint murmurs drifted among them; one of them said in a weak voice:
> "She's still so young…"
The scene shifts to a high school classroom, where Rami was sitting by the window, lost in thought, when the counselor entered, his voice tense:
> "Rami… come with me."
Rami looked up in surprise:
> "Me?"
The counselor nodded and led him through the school corridors until they reached the principal's office. There, Rami was startled to find a police officer staring at him seriously. The officer stepped toward him:
> "Are you Mira's brother?"
Rami answered, a trace of worry already showing on his face:
> "Yes… what happened to my sister?"
Another officer intervened, speaking cautiously:
> "Come with us, son, we want to talk to you."
But the first officer broke the silence, hesitating before uttering the words that froze Rami's body:
> "I'm sorry… but Mira… is dead."
Rami's expression changed, as if time had stopped. A strange mix of deep grief and silent anger overcame him.
The officer continued:
> "You need to come with us to identify the body."
As they left, the officer noticed Rami's tears falling, before they turned into a muffled cry. His colleague had to calm him down.
Half an hour later, at the morgue in the hospital, Rami stood in front of his sister's body, looking at her for the last time. His voice trembled, but his tone was charged with anger:
> "What happened?"
The officer replied:
> "She committed suicide…"
Rami shouted:
> "That's impossible! My sister would never do that!"
The officer tried to explain what some of her classmates had said, that maybe they had bullied her, but Rami kept repeating firmly:
> "Mira isn't that weak… someone drove her to this!"
The officer said regretfully:
> "There's no evidence to prove that."
Rami was completely shattered. Inside, he refused to accept the idea of suicide, whispering to himself: "No… it can't be…"
Another officer stepped forward:
> "Where is the girl's guardian?"
Rami replied coldly:
> "No mother, no father…"
But his words were cut short by a man in his forties, his hair starting to gray, speaking from behind:
> "I'm her father."
Rami looked at him with suppressed hatred, then turned his face away without saying a word. He went home, barely able to carry himself.
Inside the house, he collapsed on the floor, crying:
> "Why did all this happen? I've lost everything…"
He saw his sister's image in every corner, picked up a photo of his mother holding a small child, and whispered:
> "I'm sorry, Mom… I couldn't protect my sister."
He remembered the last moment with his mother, when she told him:
> "Your sister is a trust in your hands."
He spent the night on the floor, broken, until his phone rang. He saw the name "Hina" on the screen, but turned it off without interest.
The doorbell rang, and there stood the same man from the hospital. The father spoke coldly:
> "Today, at 12 o'clock, the burial ceremony."
Rami replied bluntly:
> "Fine."
Before leaving, the father bent down to pick up a photo from the floor, but Rami shouted:
> "Don't touch it!"
The father left it and walked away.
Hours later, at the cemetery, the burial ceremony ended. The father approached Rami, trying to talk, but Rami cut him off:
> "I don't want to hear a single word from you."
The father said:
> "I'm your father."
Rami exploded:
> "Where were you all these years?! Yes, you left me and my sister as children, and started a new life."
The father tried to justify himself:
> "After your mother died, I was broken…"
But Rami delivered his final words, his face cold as death:
> "I don't care… you left us. You've been dead to me since that day."