She has dinner with her family

The rest of the night went relatively uneventful. You came home, said your prayers, and had dinner. You stayed largely quiet during the meal, instead mulling over the events of the day.

Your mother, Fatima, was slaving away in the kitchen washing all the dishes while your little brother and father sat in the living room.

Your talk with Qadib earlier has sparked a lot of questions on your mind, but with your father so close by your gut is telling you to wait until you're alone before you question your mother. Inshallah, Qadib was just speaking nonsense... My mother always told me she waited until marriage and dated no man before father. She wouldn't lie to us, surely?

For as long as you can remember, you've thought of your mother as the perfect Muslim woman: modest, faithful and chaste. Qadib's insinuations have shocked you to your core. Though, the more you think about it, the more it makes sense... After all, you did inherit your assets from her. Surely she's noticed the way men stare at her? Does she get excited in the same way you do?

You eye your mother's body, taking in the supple curves hidden beneath her dress. She's quite tall for a woman, standing a few inches above your father. Her massive rear can barely be contained by her abaya. Like you, she has always struggled to find clothes which conceal her beauty. Indeed, whenever you go out in public together it seems like every man within a hundred meters is devouring you both with their eyes. A shameful part of you finds it thrilling, but you've always shrugged off those thoughts as Shaitan whispering in your ear.

The more it plays on your mind the more you begin to doubt... You recall one particular time when you were younger and out in public. It was time to pray, and rather than wait until she got home your mother decided to do it there and then, bowing down in front of a load of kuffar white men and giving them clear vision of her gigantic ass before wiggling it in front of them, as if to taunt them to do something... I always chalked it up to her being somewhat naive , but what if she did it on purpose?

Your memories go to her laboured breathing as the kuffars wolf-whistled you both. Becoming heavier, and ladled with something else... Something primal. At the time you thought it to be mere annoyance. You gulp nervously, before you're pulled out of your thoughts by your father calling your name.

"Amira! Answer me when I am speaking to you!" Your father's voice carries frustration. "INSHALLAH I am taking you to get your hearing tested."

You quickly enter the room, and smile at him, aiming to disarm his anger before it explodes. Your father, Ghaffar, is a stern man with a fiery temper. He is short and stout with greying hair, but he more than makes up for it with his strict personality. You've been on the receiving end of his more spankings than you can count - that man can summon the strength of a thousand Jihadis with his right hand. "Father? What is it, sorry I was caught in my daydreams."

Your father sighs. "I leave for the airport at 6AM, as such I expect you to take care of the family while I am gone. I will be sending you money to pay our landlord each month."

Wait, what? "Airport? Where are you going?"

Your father's face wrinkles in annoyance. "Were you not listening during dinner? I am away to Islamabad for the next 6 months for work. Pakistan's economy is booming and I am to make contacts there, looking for investors."

"Oh, I see. But wait... Why me? Why not Assim? He is old enough to look out for us isn't he?"

Your brother shoots a glance at you awkwardly, before seeming to sink into his seat. Ghaffar looks at him scornfully. "Assim is a wastrel and a dayyuth - always hanging around these haram white whores and giving them money. I can not trust him with the family's finances."

Your eyes widen. "Well... Why not trust mother?"

A sigh escapes your father's lips and he pinches the nose of his bridge in annoyance. "Because your mother has one braincell and uses it to buy dresses. Stop questioning me."

Cautious to not push your father's non-existent patience any further, you nod obediently.

"Hm. Good. I will send you the money on the first day of each month. You are to then withdraw it and give it to Mr Norton. Understood?"

"Yes, father."

"That's all. And look out for your mother and brother. They are both stupid."

Assim grits his teeth at those words, but says nothing. What did he do to upset father so much? Who are these 'haram white whores'?

You resolve to ask your brother about it when you're both alone. Right now though, you're tired. You decide to go to bed early. So many thoughts are running through your mind at the moment.