Navir counted the cracked tiles as he crossed the courtyard. Sorvan emerged from the doorway ahead, silver-black hair catching the light.
"You're late," Sorvan said lightly. "Again."
"Working on some stuff on the local power grid, with Ardavan." Navir replied. "Took longer than expected."
Sorvan's smile, accompanied by a slight scoff. Though it didn't reach his eyes. "Convenient."
Navir stopped. "Say what you mean."
Sorvan laughed, soft and neat. "I did." He nudged a loose stone with his toe. "Funny how things break when you're gone."
"Accidents happen," Navir countered, though a twinge of unease crept along his spine.
"Sure," Sorvan agreed. "They always do."
A cart rolled past, wheels chipping the silence. Sorvan waved once, then added, almost offhand, "Mehrak showed you his new model, right?"
Navir kept his expression even. "Yes. Why?"
"Impressive," Sorvan said. "Almost too impressive for someone who trips over stairs."
Navir stiffened, one brow lifting. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Sorvan's lips curved into a faint smile, his eyes blinking once. "A joke," he said, tilting his head just enough. "You don't laugh like you used to."
Navir studied him. Smooth copper skin. Careful posture. The dimple appeared, then vanished. "Are you testing me?"
"Of course not. Why would I?" Sorvan asked, voice airy, almost playful.
He turned, stepping toward the shadows, humming softly. Navir watched the easy rhythm of his stride, the calm shoulders that seemed too precise. Beneath it all, something shifted, restless, unspoken, and Navir's gut tightened.
Mehrak leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes after a long stretch of scrolling through old forum threads, half-distracted by a strategy game idling on his screen. He was just about to shut the laptop when a new email notification slid into view.
He skimmed the subject line, then froze. A heartbeat later, he shot to his feet, bounced on his toes and with flailing arms, he let out a shout so loud it jolted the entire neighborhood awake. "Haa… I won! I actually won!"
A door creaked open across the street. Soft footsteps crossed the courtyard, unhurried but alert.
Nimi came into view, hair loosely tied, sleep still clinging to her eyes. She stopped in front of Mehrak, squinting at him as if trying to decide whether to scold him or go back to bed.
"Mehrak," she said, voice rough with sleep, "it's barely morning. Why are you screaming like the house is on fire?"
Mehrak's mouth opened, then snapped shut, words stuck in his throat as he shook his head in disbelief. Finally, he whispered, trembling with joy, "I… I won."
Nimi's brow furrowed. "Won what exactly?"
"The science fair," he said, eyes shining. "I actually won! Come on, I'll show you." He grabbed her hand lightly and led her toward the garage, where his laptop sat glowing with the email that confirmed it.
"The academy, they sent me an email!" Mehrak's voice shook with excitement. He gestured toward his laptop on the garage table, the message glowing brightly. "Ten thousand mirs!"
"Ten thousand?" Nimi's eyes widened. "That's… Fifteen million Argathe kunbos!"
"Yeah, I know," Mehrak said, nodding eagerly. "I couldn't believe it either."
Nimi grabbed his shoulders, lowering her voice. "Mehrak, don't tell anyone yet. Keep this quiet."
Mehrak laughed, brushing her warning aside. "Come on, Nimi, you're too paranoid."
Their conversation was cut short by a shout from outside. "Hey Mehrak! We heard you screaming!" A group of boys rounded the corner, curiosity brimming in their eyes.
Before Nimi could react, another girl pushed past them, a sly grin on her face. "I heard you won the science fair!"
Mehrak's joy overflowed. "Yes! I did! And look at this!" He showed everyone the certificate, explaining the design, the judges' comments, and the prize money. He spun in little circles, the anklets on his ankles jingling with every step.
Nimi tugged Mehrak slightly to the side, her grin tight and sharp, eyes flashing with repressed anger. "Do you even realize what you just did?" she hissed under her breath.
Mehrak only laughed, oblivious. "Come on! I worked hard for this!" He freed himself from her grasp.
From the steps across the courtyard, Navir observed silently, every sense alert. A small crowd had gathered at Mehrak's home, voices rising with excitement. In a shadowed corner, Sorvan leaned casually against the wall, posture relaxed yet firm, his eyes fixed on the scene. Expression unreadable, no smile, no flicker of pride. Just cold, calculating eyes quietly measuring everything around him.
Mehrak's laughter rang out, spinning among the neighbors, oblivious to the tension curling through the courtyard.
Hours later, just before first light crept over the rooftops, a scream tore through the stillness. Nayira's voice cut the predawn hush, ragged, panicked, breaking apart. Navir jerked awake at once, heart slamming as he leapt to his feet and ran toward the sound, the early morning calm already shattered.
The sight that met him froze his blood. Mehrak lay still on the floor in his garage, eyes wide in silent shock, body unnaturally still. No sign of struggle, no wounds, nothing to explain how the boy had ended up that way. The quiet pressed in, impossible and absolute.
Navir's chest tightened; his heart shattered in the weight of disbelief. He dropped to his knees beside Mehrak, hands hovering, trembling.
From the corner of the yard, Kavresh and Ravash exchanged grim, unreadable glances. The air was thick with tension, their silence louder than any words.
Before anyone could process what had happened, a taxi screeched to a halt at the entrance. Mehrak's mother emerged, breathless from her journey. Her eyes fell on the scene, wide with horror, and a strangled gasp escaped her lips. Then her knees buckled, her face paling as the world tilted, she crumpled to the ground, heart succumbing to the unbearable shock.
Nimi arrived moments later, hair disheveled, eyes wide with disbelief. She froze at the scene, her hand flying to her mouth as she struggled to comprehend the sudden, impossible
loss.
The courtyard, once filled with life, was now swallowed by grief and chaos.