Strings - Capstone Amal Al Shamsi (1)

“Right,” he told her.
“If you’re going upstairs, can you bring Haya water?”
Hamza was not planning on it, but he went to the fridge to get a bottle.
“Not cold, please.”
Hamza stopped to look at her, “This one is for me.”
Lamya laughed a bit, “Okay.”
He retrieved another bottle from the cabinet and headed upstairs, but he took them both
with him as he entered his room. It was their room, Lamya, Haya, and his.
“Go say goodnight to your brother,” Lamya said to Haya, kissing her forehead. She
looked up at Hamza afterwards.
In his crib, Jasem had his eyes closed. Hamza pinched the boy’s nose lightly to get his
attention. The boy whined and started to cry before Hamza picked him up, pressing a kiss to the
soft tufts of hair on his head.
His arms got tired rocking, but he didn’t want to put him down. He feared the child
would just slip onto his bed, not noticing the change at all.
52