Hamza walked with a steady pace, his thoughts drifting between school assignments and weekend plans. Suddenly, a thin plume of smoke caught his eye, rising ominously from the roof of Mrs. Ahsan’s house. His heart skipped a beat as he broke into a sprint, his mind racing with concern.

Mrs. Ahsan, an elderly woman known for her kind heart and generous spirit, sat on the porch, her face pale and eyes watery from the smoke. Hamza dashed towards her, shouting, "Is anyone inside?" Without waiting for a response, he guided her gently away from the house, calling for help in a voice that echoed through the neighborhood.

Hamza watched anxiously as the firefighters attacked the flames with precision and speed. Within moments, the fire was under control, and a sense of calm began to return. Mrs. Ahsan, now wrapped in a warm blanket, reached out to Hamza, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thank you, dear boy," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

As the community praised Hamza’s bravery, Mrs. Ahsan leaned closer, her voice barely audible over the murmurs. "There’s something I must tell you," she confided, her eyes clouded with worry. "The fire wasn’t an accident. Someone set it deliberately." Hamza felt a chill run down his spine, the weight of her words settling heavily on his shoulders.

Hamza approached his friend, Ali, who often knew more about the neighborhood’s happenings than anyone else. "Ali, have you heard anything strange about Mrs. Ahsan’s fire?" he asked, hoping for a lead. Ali nodded thoughtfully, "I heard someone saw a shadowy figure lurking around her house the night before the fire," he replied, his voice laced with intrigue.

With newfound resolve, Hamza knew he had to act swiftly. He would gather more information, speak to more neighbors, and perhaps even uncover the identity of the mysterious figure. The fire was only the beginning, and Hamza was ready to unravel the secrets hidden in the smoke.