Inside the clan's main house, a group of men sat around discussing matters affecting their people. Sitting on the most elevated spot was none other than Sidra's old man.
He looked relaxed, with an air of arrogance hanging over him. To his side was his wife whose demur was nothing befitting royalty.
She looked withered and old, tired and almost lifeless. The death of her daughter affected her in ways she didn't anticipate.
It was as though Sidra's death began the end of their happiness. Since she breathed her last, their days and nights have been filled with one issue after another.
The oldest son was currently bedridden. He was plagued with a disease that the physicians couldn't place. There wasn't any known physician they hadn't tried.
While the woman spent most of her time taking care of him, her husband went through life normally. He didn't care.
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