Chapter 25 · Untitled Chapter

I stood in the shadow of the lower vestibule, my black abaya drawn close around my shoulders, watching through the carved cedar lattice that separated the domestic corridor from the formal reception hall. From this angle, just beyond the perimeter of the public eye, every shift in the room belonged to me, measured not by the imagined fables I had spun from the gallery above, but by the cold, exacting reality of Mansour’s threshold.

The estate notary, a lean, graying man named Abu Fahad, sat on the lower divan opposite Mansour. A heavy leather folio rested across his knees, untouched by gahwa, the silver finjan on the copper side table between them remaining empty and cold. That absence spoke before either man drew breath; in this house, coffee was neither poured nor accepted when an account hung in dispute.

"The deed of arbitration was certified under your late father’s seal, Ya ustadh," Abu Fahad said, his voice measured, clinging to the dry authority of stamped paper. He withdrew a parchment document folded thrice, laying it upon the cedar low table.