2

Khaled: (His voice is deep and even, devoid of warmth) Come, sit next to me.

(Asrar shuffles towards the table, her small shoes making almost no sound on the polished floor. She reaches the chair and attempts to pull it out, but her small hands struggle with the heavy furniture. She then tries to climb onto the chair, but her legs are too short and she fumbles, nearly losing her balance.)

With a soft, almost silent sigh, Khaled stood. His movements were deliberate as he adjusted her chair, then carefully lifted and settled her into it .His expression remained unreadable

Khaled: (Without emotion) Be careful.

(Asrar finally manages to settle on the chair, though her feet don't reach the floor. She shrinks back, feeling the weight of her perceived clumsiness. She avoids eye contact with her father, staring down at the pristine white tablecloth. A wave of sadness washes over her.)

Then said Asrar: (Looking down, her voice barely audible) Thank you, Papa.

Looking at the table cloth and then she looks at her father, she feels her father is huge and she feels even smaller against the imposing father . She avoids eye contact, her heart pounding in her chest. The silence stretches, broken only by the clinking of silverware as Elara begins to serve the meal. A generous portion of lasagna is placed in front of Asrar.)

(Asrar’s eyes widen. The lasagna is her favorite! A small smile begins to form on her face, chasing away the earlier anxiety. She stares at the cheesy, saucy layers, her mouth watering.)

(She pulls herself back from her reverie, glancing hesitantly at Khaled. He is back on his phone, seemingly oblivious.)

(Asrar reaches for her fork, but her hand is trembling. The fork slips from her grasp and clatters loudly against the porcelain plate. The sound echoes in the silent room.)

(Asrar freezes, her face flushing a deep crimson.

Asrar couldn't hold her tears her tears start falling

Asrar ( Tremblant , Whispering, mortified) I'm sorry, Papa.

Lowering his phone, Khaled finally looked at Asrar. He was taken aback to see her silently weeping, her face flushed and her eyes wide with fear as she stared at him. They remained locked like this for a long moment

Asrar (6 years old, Voice choked with tears): I... I'm trying, Papa. But... but I dropped the fork...

(Asrar sobs harder, burying her face in her hands. Her small body shakes. The lasagna, once a source of excitement, now sits untouched and taunting on the plate.)

Khaled (Internal Monologue): This is ridiculous. Tears over a dropped fork? She needs discipline, not

coddling. But... the look on her face. It's... unsettling.

(Khaled hesitates, looked at her ,he felt everything in his body shaking. he raised his head and started looking around. Elara is watching him with a quiet intensity, her expression unreadable. The pressure mounts.)

Khaled: (Standing abruptly. His voice is clipped and sharp.) Elara, clean this up. Asrar, you can to your room . Go to bed.

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