"Fine?" Tural laughed, pulling out his phone. He hit play on a loud, rhythmic song. The room filled with the voice of Vasif Azimov: “Evlen, subay qardaşım...”
"Elvin," Tural started, leaning back. "The house is quiet. Too quiet. My kids need cousins to play with, and Mom needs a new daughter-in-law to spoil." Evlen Subay Qardasim Yukle
The family laughed, and for the first time, Elvin didn't mind the "trap." Sometimes, the music of tradition was exactly what he needed to hear. "Fine?" Tural laughed