On August 4, the Beirut explosion reached into a quiet home and shattered an entire world. Inside the building Abdo Ata was confined at home, listening to music , sipping coffee beside his childhood neighbor Chadi, who was deaf. It was an ordinary moment , until the building collapsed. Beneath its rubble, his brother Issam survived—trapped, injured, but alive. Survival came at a cost that words struggle to hold. His twin sister Helene also survived, spared only because she was not at home at the time, though she lived in the same building. Absence became the thin line between life and death.
From one place came different fates: loss, survival, and memory. What endures is the quiet echo of music, the bonds of family and childhood, and a life remembered with love and reverence.