A little girl.

A little girl, 6 years old, entered my tower in New Cairo in the midst of a strong shata storm, and I was thinking that I was the age of what he saw again. But what she said after this was 9 years of ledding, and revealed the secrets of my family I buried, and I doubted every need I believed about the six that I loved for a time.
My name is Karim Al-Minshawi, and the day my life fluctuated in it began with a small girl standing alone in the reception of Al-Minshawi Tower.
The rain was coming down this morning.
Byland, the Arabs were cracking the flooded streets, and the people were running under the deacon.
As for the headquarters of my company, every need was to shine a luxurious marble, a huge Najaf, copper decorations, and the calmness that Biji with the influence and many money.
Everyone was walking in his condition.
Managers.
Lawyers.
Investors.
And there’s no one that took his mind from the little girl who came in through the turnstile.
In the first at least.
Macanesh then more than six years.
She’s in a wide gray fold covering her small body.
Her black locks of hair were wet, and the water was dripping on the ground.
Each step was with the aspiration of a light sound of wet boots.
But even though it was, it was cattle with strange confidence.
I left directly for the security office.
One of the security personnel bowed to her and said gently.
Hey, baby, you’re a good girl?
She shook her head in the negative.
She said
I have to meet Professor Karim Al-Minshawi.
The man smiled lightly.
It’s not like that, baby.
But she repeated the same sentence.
I have to meet Mr. Karim Al-Minshawi.
He needed in her voice that people would raise her head and shed.
Including Madame Nadia.
The six who ran the family affairs more than 30 years ago.
The type of sixes that you notice any detail, no matter how small.
And the first thing that healed the girl’s eyes.
I’m freezing.
Bluish gray eyes.
Famorous.
Painfully.
And before you talk,
The door of the private elevator is opening.
And I came out of it and I’m on a phone call.
I have 37 years.
I have spent many years turning the Abuya al-Murra empire into a respectable and successful group of companies.
Most people knew me as a billionaire businessman.
And in people, he has not thought the ancient history of the family.
But either way,
Rarely was he standing in my way.
Until this morning.
I noticed the assembly at the security.
And I said
In what?
Muhdash responded immediately.
But the little girl turned around.
She said steadily
You’re the mencho cream.
Macantech’s asking.
It was me.
I got the phone down from my hand.
And I said
Oh.
Her hands extended the face of the balto pocket.
And her fingers were trembling from the swath.
And when I opened her palm,
She received a small, stable dahab ring over her hands.
Simple.
Old.
And terrifyingly familiar.
She said
I’m Jett, return Mama’s ring.
The silence came down on the whole place.
I felt my heart stop again.
I asked her
Your mom’s ring?
She said
She said he sold you.
Need an air my chest I contracted.
I got down on my knees in front of her.
And I took the ring from her.
His tongue was duffy from the heat of her hands.
I slowly turned it around.