In a crumbling rented home, barely held up by its fragile walls, young Mohammad lives in heavy silence. He lost both of his legs, and pain has become his constant companion. Shrapnel lodged behind his knees fuels inflammation that robs him of even the slightest comfort. Confined to his bed, unable to move, it’s as if the world has shut him away between four walls. His mother, who lost her husband in detention, now carries the burden of both mother and father. She works as a cleaner to feed her six children and returns home to care for her son, all while drowning in merciless debts. Mohammad isn’t asking for much—just a surgery to remove the shrapnel eating away at his bones, and an extended hand that asks, “How can I help you?”