Morning moved.
Pavi Dast watched sunlight cross the Cairo receiving hall for three days.
At Night Ground, pale sky reached 04:17 and folded backward. Here, the light climbed one wall, crossed the glass roof, heated the red arrival line, and left through western windows without returning.
The first sunset frightened twelve of the forty arrivals.
They had lived their whole lives under an hour before dawn. When the roof went dark, Bera Orro asked whether the soil-light relation had failed. A child rang the Post Six battery pattern against a food tray until a Cairo medic showed him the western sky and waited for the first star.
Pavi stayed awake through the night.
She slept after sunrise with one palm in the warm stripe beside the red line.
Traffic taught her hours before clocks did.
