“Was it you?” “Was it?” “Was it you?” “I’d like a bit of context, sweetheart.” “Did you or did you not donate ten million dollars to the Epilepsy Foundation, Azeer Khan?” she asks, her tone serious. My lips shrug down in response to Alina’s questioning. “What a remarkable philanthropist.” She takes my hand and says my name with a hint of reproach. “Azeer.” “Alina,” I respond in the same tone, and she melts into a smile. “Why didn’t you discuss it with me?” “Because it’s my inheritance money.” Her jaw drops in surprise, and then she grips my hands tightly. “Your inheritance money? You donated
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MY HEARTTTTT
