In the heart of the gray sky, amidst the whisper of the wind and the smell of damp rain, Mrs. Atusa stood with her children in their small, humble tent behind Agha Salar's house. Small raindrops were slowly settling on the roof of the tent, and the humid air had dispersed the smell of rain-soaked soil into the air. But inside Atusa's heart, a storm was brewing, a storm from the distant past that was still alive in her mind. She could no longer remain silent; she had to go visit Agha Javad, the man for whom her heart had once beat. With trembling hands, she pushed aside the tent and stepped into the narrow, muddy alley. The rain had intensified, but nothing could stop her. She took firm steps and walked towards the house where she had once left her dreams. When she reached there, her heart pounded hard in her chest. She was still hesitating when the door suddenly opened and she was confronted with Javad's face; A man who no longer belonged to her. Standing next to Javad was his wife, Farzaneh, a woman with a troubled face and eyes full of anger. And in another corner, Javad's mother was glaring at him with a cold, emotionless look.
Atusa greeted him with a trembling voice, but Farzaneh immediately took a step forward and said in a sharp and sharp tone: "What do you want here? You have no place in this house anymore! Go!"
Atusa took a deep breath. Drops of rain were dripping down her face, or maybe it was her tears that mixed with the rain. She whispered with suppressed resentment: "I have to marry Mr. Javad..." But her voice was lost in the thunder that rolled in the sky.
Farzaneh laughed bitterly and said in a tone that trembled with contempt: "Sleep on! Get out of here, or I'll throw you out myself!"
Atusa didn't say anything more, her eyes filled with tears, her legs became weak, but she had to turn back. She took one step after another on the wet cobblestones of the alley and disappeared into the rain.
When she returned to the tent, her children looked at her with innocent and worried eyes. She swallowed her anger, wiped her tears, and faked a smile. She used her hands, lit the damp firewood, and cooked a fragrant and tempting meal. The pleasant smell of the food enveloped the tent, and for a moment, the warmth soothed the old wounds in her heart.
That night, under the cloth roof of the tent, amidst the quiet sound of the rain, Atusa and her children ate their meal. But in his heart he knew that this story was not over yet...
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