Silence. Then Omar’s voice, thick with emotion. “You know, son… when I bought my first taxi in 1985, I slept on the floor of the préfecture for two nights. A rat ran over my foot.”
Samir felt a crack of hope. He pulled out his own phone. procuration voiture maroc
“Baba?”
“Good,” Omar said. “But now… bring it home. And drive slow. It’s my heart you’re carrying in that engine.” Silence