Karim met my father's gaze steadily, the flickering light reflecting off his determined features. "I'm currently the Prime Minister of Plora," he replied, his voice firm yet respectful.
The room fell silent, the impact of his words settling in like a thick fog.
My mother blinked in surprise, and my father's expression shifted, a mix of disbelief and scrutiny flashing across his face.
The tension was palpable, and I could see the wheels turning in their minds.
"Prime Minister?" my dad echoed, his voice low, almost incredulous. "How old are you?"
"I'm thirty-one this year," Karim said, his composure never faltering. "I joined the army when I was sixteen and have spent the last fourteen years serving my country."
My mother leaned forward, curiosity mixing with caution as she leaned into the camera, the screen illuminated her concerned expression. "And what was your role in the military?"
