“He’s not who you think he is,” Amina hissed, her voice sharp and venomous, carrying the weight of a warning that felt like a dagger in Zainab’s chest. Her sister’s eyes gleamed with a mix of fear and righteous anger, a storm barely contained behind her words. “He’s deceiving you, Zainab. He’s not a beggar by birth.” Zainab’s heart skipped a beat, her breath catching unexpectedly. The afternoon sun had just begun its slow descent, casting long shadows across the dusty path that led to their hut. For a moment, the birdsong…
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