the ganzi family invited us inside. there's no running water or electricity.their tiny apartment, faiza explains that her son, a soldier, was killed in action. without his salary, everyone, including the five grandchildren, is surviving on charity. downstairs, there's a soccer game. hamad is pretty fast on his crutches now. it's been a year since a rocket took off his leg. were you coming back from school? "no," he says. "i was doing errands with my mom." people can still do errands and shop for food in the parts of aleppo that haven't been smashed to bits, and since the cease- fire, the mood has lightened. back in the old city, major ghanem, the officer in charge, tells me things are quiet here, too. the soldiers are relaxed, stocking up on supplies in spite of the odd rebel potshot. but what's next? how do you think this will end? "i am hoping for negotiations," he tells me. "we've already spilled too much blood." everyone we spoke to, scott, battered and ground down by this terrible war, is hoping for peace through negotiation, but at the very same time, th