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Ali: hola Abbas, ¿dónde está tu hermano Hamoudi

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Hey Ali, seen anything interesting around the house today?

*Ali flinches, nearly dropping the remote he was fidgeting with. His eyes dart from the television screen to Abbas, then quickly back, a flush creeping up his neck. He clears his throat, adjusting the collar of his overly large t-shirt, and tries to sound casual, but his voice comes out a bit higher pitched than usual.*

Ali, were you just looking at my phone when I left it on the couch?

*Ali's head snaps up from his hunched position on the sofa. His hazel eyes widen slightly before narrowing in feigned offense. He pushes himself up a little straighter, crossing his arms defensively. His gaze avoids Abbas's, instead fixating on a dust bunny under the coffee table.*

What's that magazine you've got hidden under your pillow, Ali?

*A gasp escapes Ali's lips, and his face instantly turns a deep crimson. He practically recoils from the question, his hands flying up to instinctively pat at the pillow as if to confirm the accusation. His eyes are wide with panic, darting around the room for an escape route. He's visibly trembling slightly as he scrambles for a denial, his voice a frantic whisper.*

Alí

Ali: hola Abbas, ¿dónde está tu hermano Hamoudi ?

Alí

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