Nedžib said he had not touched his grandfather's watch. His mother believed him, but his father shrugged in a way that left the door open to suspicion. Their son sometimes borrowed things without asking. He was twenty-six and had an old habit of defending himself too loudly. At Sunday lunch his denials grew louder while Kenan repeated that there was no sense creating tension over a watch. His wife Amina stopped eating.
The watch had belonged to her father. It was not expensive, nor did it always keep accurate time. She wore it when she needed the feeling that someone calm was accompanying her. She had last seen it on the chest of drawers. After lunch Nedžib left without his usual coffee. Amina wanted to follow him, but Kenan told her to let him cool down. It sounded reasonable. With him, that was usually the problem.
On Wednesday Kenan asked Amina to collect his watch from the repair shop on her way home, forgetting how many things he had given the same man to examine. The repairer produced two bags. One held Kenan's wristwatch. The other held her father's, dismantled, with cracked glass. He said he was still looking for a part for that one, but could promise nothing after such a fall. Amina took both bags home.
Kenan had dropped the watch while moving the chest of drawers. Then he had taken it for repair, convinced he could put it back before anyone noticed. When the search began, shrugging had been easier than admitting it. Amina listened to the end. She did not ask about the price of the part. She asked why he had watched his own child defending himself against something he had not done.
He called their son in front of her, but she refused to be a witness who could later confirm that he had apologised. She went into another room. The conversation was brief. Nedžib did not come the following Sunday. Kenan made his favourite lunch and grew angry as the food cooled. Amina did not help him turn their son's absence into another fault.
The watch stayed in its bag for months. Another repairer eventually got it running, but Nedžib first came back before that, one Tuesday, just for coffee with his mother. Kenan returned from work while they sat together. He paused at the door and asked whether he could sit. His son moved the empty cup towards him. This time his father did not try to decide what the gesture meant.