Noah quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket, as if he'd just remembered something important.
Noah (calmly, with interest): I can help you… but give me your name first.
Yousef gave him his name without hesitation. Noah began typing and searching, the glow of the screen reflecting on his shifting expression. His eyebrows shot up in disbelief, eyes widening as if he'd just seen something impossible.
Joud quietly stepped closer, standing behind him, peeking at the screen with a mix of curiosity and worry.
Yousef (sharply): What did you find?!
Noah (nervously, in shock): You… you're filthy rich, you own a company—mashallah—but… there are rumors that you help the mafia launder money. And that you're a ruthless man… heartless…
He didn't finish.
His voice froze when Yousef's expression darkened, a heavy shadow seeming to fall over the room.
Noah stumbled back a step, hands raised cautiously.
Noah (uneasy): Hey, relax, man… I just read what was written.
Yousef lowered his head slightly, then suddenly lifted it, sniffing the air around him.
Yousef (low, dangerous voice): I smell blood…
Joud and Noah exchanged uneasy glances, stepping back as they swallowed hard.
Yousef (with an unsettling calm): Don't worry… it's coming from outside.
He walked to the door with steady steps, opened it, and slipped out, closing it behind him with a heavy, deliberate quiet.
Their eyes shifted to the window, watching him intently. Outside, there was a werewolf clutching a dead chicken, blood dripping from its claws onto the ground.
When its gaze met Yousef's, it dropped the chicken and bolted toward the forest.
Without hesitation, Yousef transformed into a werewolf and sprinted after it—his body ripping and reshaping in seconds, eyes glowing with raw savagery.
Just before he caught up, the werewolf spun around and morphed into a handsome teenage boy, chest heaving, eyes burning with anger.
Yousef stopped, glaring sharply.
Yousef (suspicious yet intrigued): Who are you?!
The boy (with anger and hurt): Don't you remember me? You're such a terrible father…
Yousef lunged forward, grabbing him by the neck and lifting him off the ground.
Yousef (eyes blazing): I have only two children… trying to trick me?!
He hurled the boy hard onto the dirt, then snatched him up again.
Yousef (deep, menacing voice): Who are you?! Tell me who you are before I kill you!
Suddenly, a powerful blow from a wooden stick struck the back of Yousef's head.
He collapsed to the ground, groaning, his eyes fluttering open sluggishly as he writhed in pain—only to find a beautiful, mysterious teenage girl standing over him, staring coldly.
Yousef (mocking through the pain): Don't tell me… let me guess… you're my daughter?
The girl turned to the boy, her tone sarcastic but laced with anger:
The girl: See? I told you. A criminal… stay away from him.
(Then to Yousef, with a sharp tone)
And don't worry, you lunatic… I'm not your daughter.
The boy's eyes welled with tears as he stared at Yousef, a mixture of sadness and betrayal etched on his face.
The two exchanged a glance, then walked away together into the depths of the forest.
Yousef staggered to his feet, his body aching, steps slow as he returned to the cabin.
His eyes were distant, haunted by questions swirling like ghosts in his mind:
Yousef (to himself): What mistake did I make? Who am I? And who were they? Am I dreaming? Or is this a nightmare? Or maybe… maybe I really am a criminal, and I just don't remember…