Strings - Capstone Amal Al Shamsi (1)

“Whatever I need to sign, let’s go. I’m not in the mood to press charges anymore, you’ve
worn me out,” he told them.
“Good to hear, sir,” one of them said, but his mouth twitched to let him know it was a
joke. There could be no charges held against them.
Hamza waited by the door outside until it was over and Jasem signed some papers and
signed off a lot of his father’s money. The boy would be sent home first, ahead of them, it was
not explicitly stated but he must have known he would be continuing his studies at home.
At the airport, Hamza did not think, just reached for Jasem and crushed him between his
arms. He could tell Jasem was crying again by the way his body shook. He must have known
Hamza was trying to say goodbye and mean it, this time. When he pulled away, his own face was
wet but it dried fast.
“Please see me, please see me,” the man was chanting quietly.
“Jasem, please stop,” Hamza told him. Then, “I will, I will.”
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