“The money I kept in an envelope.”
“No, my daughter.”
Amina folded her arms.
“You are the only other person who stays in this house during the day.”
The old man stared at her in disbelief.
“You think I took your money?”
“I am asking you a question.”
“And I have answered you.”
She searched his small bag while he watched, his face becoming increasingly pale.
She found no money.
Instead of apologizing, she closed the bag and walked away.
That evening, Malik questioned his father privately.
“Father, did you take the money?”
Suleiman looked at him for a long time.
“You have known me for thirty-five years, Malik. How can you ask me that?”
Malik immediately regretted the question.
“I am sorry. I just wanted to understand what happened.”
“Then understand this,” his father replied quietly. “Poverty can take your possessions, your comfort, and sometimes even your health. But it cannot take your character unless you surrender it.”
