https://youtu.be/0Xl-msvxkW0

For the next couple of months, Elena got up in the mornings, was greeted by the cheerful cleaning lady, Zubaida, and shared breakfast with Aziza and Amal. Sometimes, at the end of the school day, Aziza and Elena would buy chai from one of the local vendors and relax on lawn chairs, watching the gradients of orange and magenta in the sky fade into a magnificent blue. Amal would entertain them with her silly facial expressions and giggles. They would watch her observe the grass and flowers on the ground with her curious eyes. She would grab a few blades in her tiny hands and hold them up victoriously for them to see.

Aziza and Elena cracked jokes and laughed until their insides hurt. They were like two sisters gossiping over the juiciest details of the day. It became a weekly ritual that they both looked forward to. Sometimes they would get another round of tea just so they could enjoy each other's company a bit longer, despite being together most of the day.

Elena would go with the kids to ice cream shops, petting zoos, parks, and the arcade. The kids and Elena were in love with each other. Every day was a fulfilling, rhythmic lifestyle that Elena thoroughly enjoyed. The children had become an important part of her life and Aziza and Amal lit up her day even brighter. When the children needed a hug, Elena embraced them with warmth, When they wanted to cry, Elena was their shoulder to cry on. And when they got hurt, Elena was the one who put a Band-Aid on their scraped knees.

Aziza saw the kind heart within her - the heart that always puts others before anybody else. And when Aziza was tired, then she could trust Elena to take care of her daughter and put her to sleep. Amal loved Elena and often rested her pudgy little hands-on Elena's cheeks in a way to show affection that melted her heart. Having Elena by her side, Aziza felt a new type of motivation and inspiration. She loved Elena and could no longer imagine life without her.

After Aziza's husband passed away a year ago, Aziza felt an overwhelming emptiness that never seemed to dissipate. Her father had urged her to marry again, but Asif was her only true love for her. Elena would often see Aziza flipping through photos of him from a scrapbook, smiling, remembering, and crying.

"She has his eyes," Aziza often said about her daughter's bright blue eyes that warmed up a room like no other.

Elena was fond of Amal and looked forward to seeing the toddler every day. She was amused by her antics and was just as excited as Aziza when Amal began to walk.

"Her first words were Baba," Aziza smiled.

Elena could see the immense love Aziza had for Asif and was honored that Aziza wanted her to come when she paid her visit to his grave.

Despite all the smiles and laughter, there was always an underlying fear that plagued the community. As protests began in Damascus and several controversial political symbols rose, more fear grew among the population. People were angry with the government.

But, Aziza had no interest in the political situation. All she cared about was the children and running a successful orphanage. Aziza was the most cheerful person Elena had met. Her cheeks were always pink and glowed when she smiled and laughed. She enjoyed every aspect of life and she never complained despite the hardships she had endured. She embraced every feeling and wore them on her sleeve, unafraid to express herself.

"It's very hot tonight," Aziza said, as she carried Amal on her hip up the stairs to the orphanage entrance after school. "I think we should set up a charpai  for the kids and us today in the courtyard."

"Char...Pay?" Elena frowned and asked, as she followed Aziza inside.

The woman chuckled at Elena's mispronunciation. "It's char-PAI. They're basically beds we can set up outside so we can sleep under the stars."

"So...Like camping?" Elena asked, wiping sweat from her forehead.

Aziza laughed again as Amal squirmed in her lap, irritated by the heat. "Oh, habibti. You're so adorable. It's better than camping."

Elena lay outside on a bed woven with multicoloured rope beside Aziza. The children laughed and giggled as they lay on their beds, too hyper to go to sleep.

"Children! Al'Atafal!" Aziza shouted. "Go to sleep. Kun Hadian!"

"Yes, Ms. Aziza," They all spoke in unison.

They continued to quietly whisper and giggle as they cracked jokes.

"Ugh," Aziza sighed, dragging her hand down her sweaty face. "I told Fahad not to give them any ice cream. That man is always spoiling the kids."

"Good thing tomorrow's the weekend," Elena chuckled. 

"I was just wondering," Elena frowned. "Why isn't the school attached to the orphanage? Most of them usually have all services under one roof."

Aziza nodded. "We were going to expand the orphanage to make a classroom. But we realized it gives children some excitement to travel to school. If everything's under one roof, they sometimes feel...Trapped."

Elena nodded and raised her eyebrows. "I had never thought of that before. That's really empathetic of you."

Aziza smiled at her. She then yawned and propped herself up on her elbow facing Elena. Amal lay in front of her. She let out a deep sigh and fanned themselves in the heat. She gave a fan to Elena so the heat was a bit more tolerable for her too.

Aziza groaned when Amal couldn't stop moving around on the charpai. The toddler reached for Aziza's wedding ring on her ring finger.

"Amal!" Aziza yanked her hand away, fed up with her child in the heat. "She always reaches for anything that's shiny and isn't hers."

Elena laughed while Aziza glared at her daughter.

Aziza yawned and then frowned, looking at Elena's left hand. "Elena, you don't wear your wedding ring?"

"Oh. I'm not married."

Aziza's eyes widened. "I'm sorry. I thought you were."

Elena lay on her back and looked up at the stars pressed against the navy sky. "Haven't really thought about it. I've been so caught up in my career."

"If my mom was here, she would have given you a long lecture on how women should get married early."

Elena laughed. "I'm waiting for the right person."

"Well," Aziza raised her eyebrows. "Do you have your eye on anyone?"

Elena laughed and shook her head. "No."

But, she immediately thought of Andreas. It was childish of her to do so but she turned a shade redder.

"Well...," Aziza said, furrowing her eyebrows in thought. "Fahad is pretty nice. He's good with kids. Although, he does talk a lot. There's also Abdul. He brings supplies for the kids every month. He's hardworking but he doesn't talk at all. But Adeel, he's kind of in the middle-"

"Aziza," Elena laughed. "I'm not looking for anyone."

"Are you not into Arab men? Mmm. There is a language barrier and that's pretty tough to get over. And even the culture. And they might want you to stay here."

Elena chuckled again. "No, no! I'm not looking to get married right now."

"Oh."

Aziza and Elena burst out laughing as the breeze blew through their matted hair.

"Well, whatever then. When you're ready, let me know, habibti. I will find the best man for you."

"Ok," Elena laughed again and blushed.

She couldn't stop thinking about Andreas. They were friends. But Elena didn't know if he ever felt more for her. Perhaps, he was already married by now. Though it was completely natural that he would have moved on, Elena felt her heart ache for him even now.

Aziza and the kids fell asleep soon but Elena remained awake, gazing at the constellations.

She stood up, making the charpai creak underneath her. She looked at the children splayed on their beds in various forms, some snoring away. Elena saw that Mustafa had left his cot. She thought he might have gone to the bathroom, but she frowned when she saw a black figure sitting on the gate ledge suddenly disappear. Elena went over to investigate to see who it was. She saw a hooded boy crouched down near the brick wall, a puff of smoke emitting from in front of him. He had his back turned to her and didn't know she was there.

"Mustafa?" Elena asked, her arms crossed.

The boy slowly turned around but kept his head bent. Elena knew right away it was him. The thirteen-year-old boy slowly raised his head and looked at her.
His face was burning red in embarrassment as he looked at Elena's concerned eyes. The cigarette fell from his hand at which Elena stared. The boy shifted in position uncomfortably like a robber who had been caught red-handed.

"Why?" Elena asked. "Why are you smoking?"

He took the hood of his sweater off and shrugged.

"I'm sorry," He squeaked. "I won't do it again."

Elena sighed. "Where did you get this cigarette from?"

He didn't answer.

"Answer me, Mustafa," She said softly. "It's okay."

The boy sighed in defeat. "From...From a group of people."

Elena didn't need any more explaining. She understood right away. It was like somebody had just slapped her entire past in her face, the past that she tried to forget all these years. The way Mustafa was acting was exactly like her when her mom first found out about her addiction. It brought a sickening feeling to her stomach.

"How long has this been happening?" Elena asked.

The boy was still frozen in place with his head hung low.

"Mustafa?"

"A month."

Elena looked at his ashamed face, still burning red but was glad he was telling her the truth.

"Why do you do it?" Elena asked, crouching beside him.

She saw that he was contemplating whether or not to tell her.

"It's okay, you can talk to me," She assured him.

"It makes me feel good," He shrugged, his face still hot from embarrassment.

"Okay," Elena said, nodding her head. "Thanks for being honest with me."

She closed her eyes in frustration.

"I won't do it again," He said quickly. "I promise."

"Are you sure about that?" Elena raised an eyebrow. "You said it makes you feel good."

"It does," Mustafa admitted after a few moments. "But, I know it's wrong."

"It is," Elena said passionately. "And you're damaging your lungs. And not only your lungs, your whole body. And then it damages your entire life, your future, and everything else in between!"

Elena shook her head, remembering heart-wrenching memories. Mustafa frowned at her and raised an eyebrow. They sat beside each other on the grass, their backs leaning against the brick wall.

"You seem like you know, Ms. Elena," The clever boy said.

Elena nodded and nervously chuckled. "I do."

Mustafa felt more comfortable talking to her now.

"It may feel good now, but later, all you do is regret it. And the worst part is that you're not only hurting yourself; you're hurting everybody around you. My mom didn't sleep at night after she found out. I gave her a lot of pain."

Mustafa looked at her.

"But my mom is dead and my dad's gone. What does it matter?" Mustafa plainly asked.

"Aren't the other kids your family?" Elena asked him. "Don't they matter to you?"

Mustafa nodded.

"But, family's different," Mustafa argued. "And mine are all gone."

"The other kids are nothing short of a family. And they all love you. They all need you."

Mustafa shifted and it was as if his face lit up. "No one's ever told I'm needed."

"You are. You're very important to me and the rest of the kids. You're their big brother."

Mustafa cracked a smile, surprising Elena.

"Have you...Ever lost anyone?" He asked.

"Yes, my dad. I lost him thirteen years ago. And my best friend too."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, kiddo," Elena said. "But, my friend could have been alive today."

"How so?" Mustafa asked.

"She did the same thing," Elena said. "But, she took it too far."

Mustafa stared at her, pulling his knees towards his chest, suddenly scared.

"My uncle takes pills," He said. "But, he's not a good person. He used to yell at me for no reason and then he would start slurring his words. Was your friend a good person?"

Elena had never heard Mustafa say so much at once before.

"She was a good person," Elena sadly smiled as her chest tightened in remembering her deceased friend. "But, she made bad decisions. And she caused me a lot of pain."

"That's not fair," Mustafa said. "You don't deserve pain. You're nice."

Elena smiled. "No one deserves pain from another person's bad decisions."

Mustafa nodded and stared at the white cigarette butt on the ground.

"Are you going to tell Ms. Aziza?" Mustafa asked.

"No," Elena said. "This is between you and me only. But, I want you to think about what I said and make the right decision. You're a smart boy and I trust you'll make the right choice."

Elena looked him straight in the face. "I know you've been through a lot, Mustafa. And it isn't fair. But, there are other ways to deal with pain. We can work on them together."

He nodded.   

"Now, go straight to bed."

"Thanks, Ms. Elena," He stood up quickly and raced back to his cot.

She smiled, getting up and heading back to her own. She took a deep breath, trying to steer clear of traumatic memories in her head. When she got back to her charpai, a cool breeze had begun, making the goosebumps on Elena's arms rise. She took the small blanket at the end of her woven bed and wrapped it around herself as sleep stole her away.