Dimitri’s body, wrapped in white linen, rested in the center of the garden, surrounded by lush greenery and blooming jasmine—his favorite flower.Celine stood among the mourners, dressed in a simple black abaya, her face pale and drawn, her eyes red from days of weeping. She clutched a single white rose in her trembling hands as the imam recited verses from the Quran, his voice calm and steady, invoking prayers for Dimitri’s soul.The Al-Sayeed family stood in a solemn line, Dimitri’s father, Sheikh Rami, looking every bit the grieving patriarch. His eyes, so much like Dimitri’s, were rimmed with grief, though he stood tall for the sake of tradition and dignity.Celine’s gaze drifted to the coffin, her heart aching as the reality of Dimitri’s death settled in once more. She barely registered the figures around her, though one face stood out: Caleb. He stood near the back of the gathering, his hands clasped tightly in front of him, his expression a mixture of grief and guilt.When the
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