51| Her Uncertainty

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Wahaj's POV 

I'm scribbling with the second draft of my research paper as I try to study for my midterms, while in the lecture of professor Yilmaz. My eyes wander periodically to the ceiling above me when his gaze connects with mine.


The professor discourses, "Genetic testing also harbours the potential for yet another scientific strategy to be applied in the area of eugenics, or the social philosophy of promoting the improvement of inherited human traits through intervention,"


I draw in a deep breath and let it out silently but its caught by the Professor, "Am I boring you, Ms Muhammad?"


The class filled with students all strip their attention from what they were doing and into me. My eyes flare as much as his, "Well not bore me persee, but Professor, you are contradicting your colleague with the genetic modification since in ethical practices we have been taught that this technology will raise issues more than benefits."


To the contrary belief of so many students that questioned the Professor before and got kicked out after losing to justify their arguments, this time was different. We discussed the topic as he continued with his points, and I stayed with my justifications, and the continued debate left me not being able to tell time.


The students around me shifted their attention between the Professor and back to me rapidly with each passing sentence.


Most of the students didn't get what I was aiming at; in other words, just the Professor and I knew what we were talking about was something that happened between us.


When I don't respond, after his latest comeback, his green eyes smile softly at me. "I think Class is over," He started looking at the clock placed behind him, "Good job, Ms Muhammad,"


The students fiddled around me as I picked on many smiles and praises for my acquaintance, But none mattered as much as the Professor's words. After all these years, his mind still amazes me; his knowledge captivating me.


"Can I speak to you for a second," He mutters, mouth barely moving.


The Professor that once stood to lecture that amazed me every time he opened his mouth was once again returned to Ibrahim Yilmaz.


I looked around to find students still picking up their stuff, "of course, professor." I smiled.

"There's something important we need to discuss."


"What is it?" I whisper in an admittedly clipped tone. I refuse to get distracted. Ibrahim runs a hand through his hair. His voice still silky and smooth, "I've asked Ahmad to move Lila to our hospital to children ward befo-." he confesses.


"What?" I cry to the shock of multiple students who I forgot were even there; I looked over to them with a smile and back to the Professor with a glare. "Ibrahim, are you mental? That's simply not necessary!" I whisper.


He whips his head to face me again; expression is insistent. "Listen to me, Wahaj. You and I both know that your father won't leave this alone. Ahmad will move Lila to our hospital so we could check on her more often. We could take care of her. Now I know you said you were going to take care of him, but in the meantime, Ahmad will stay and help keep an eye on Layan and Lila. I'll be back to check on them between lecture-"

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