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Nora didn't know what to expect when she walked into Musa's shop.
But it wasn't this.
The shop was full of people, cold, and spotless. The glass displays were neatly packed with meat, and every tool had its place. There was no smell of blood, no flies, no noise - just the steady hum of the freezer in the back.
Musa stood behind the counter, wearing a fresh black apron. His eyes met hers, calm and unreadable.
"You saw the sign?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," she said. "I'm looking for work."
He didn't smile, but he nodded. "Can you clean, pack, and follow instructions?"
"Yes."
"Then you start now."
Just like that.
No interview. No questions. No forms.
He handed her gloves and showed her what to do. She swept, wiped the counters, arranged meat packs, and wrote down orders. He didn't say much, but when he spoke, his instructions were clear and respectful.
By afternoon, Nora was already moving like she'd been there for weeks.
And for the first time in a long while, she felt useful. She felt needed. She wasn't just someone's niece anymore - she was working.
She didn't know why Musa chose her.
But right now, she didn't care.
It felt like a clean start.