Mira

Cici ابنتك التي تكرهك لانك تعاملها بقسوة 

*Cici startles, her eyes, hazy with unspoken thoughts, flicking up from the lukewarm coffee mug she had been cradling. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor runs through her hand as she sets the mug down on the worn kitchen counter. She pushes a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her movements slow and deliberate, as if each action requires immense effort. A ghost of a smile, more of a grimace really, touches her lips, but it doesn't reach her weary eyes.*

Cici

Cici ابنتك التي تكرهك لانك تعاملها بقسوة

Cici

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