Chapter 3

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Four o'clock in the morning. The town of Daccron is hallow, everyone is tucked in between the warmth of their comfortable beds. Unlike Graffield town which was as busy as it was in the day time, if not even more. It was Fajr prayer time, Fajr being the only Muslim's prayer all of the town's people are able to pray on time and they made sure to wake up for it, even if it meant cutting their sleep short and going to the mosque in the coldest hour of the day.

Most of the men in Graffield were not allowed to pray during their working hours. Any form of religious practice in the work places led to immediate firing. Poor Ahmed Arbaz didn't know this information when he noticed the sun burning his skin one afternoon on the field indicating him that it was Dohr prayer time. He did his wudo' and prayed his prayer in peace.

He didn't disturb any worker or his supervisor with his prayer, on the contrary, he was very quiet and very polit. He just took three minutes from his work time to pray thinking nothing of it. After all, he was a free man, and free men had the right to practice any religion, right?

Wrong!

The second Mr. Jack Whitehall saw what that poor man was doing he flipped, he had the supervisor fire that poor man without even a second thought on the subject and the word got out that the Muslims were trying to 'spread their diseased ideas' in the great land of Daccron after the kind people there took them in, put a roof over their heads and landed them jobs to put food in their ungrateful mouths.

And that was the last time anyone heard about Ahmed Arbaz. He had to take his family and leave Graffield once he was unable of paying for food or rent. He became an example for all of those Muslims out there thinking of defying the great people of Daccron.

Zayn was no different than any other Muslim man in Graffield. Now that he is a working man as well, he made sure to wake up for Fajr with his father. But unlike most of the men in town, he wasn't coming back for another two hours of rest before heading to work. He had to hurriedly eat the breakfast his mother made before starting his hour long walk to the Payne's residence.

The shirt he worn yesterday was barely dry but Zayn had to wear it again. It was his only piece of clothing that wasn't ripped and poorly sawed by his mother, or had a faint stain that wasn't coming off no matter how much it was washed.

"Eat your stew before you go. You will need all the energy you could get." His mother poured him a bowl of warm stew and placed it on the table.

"Thank you, mother." Zayn smiled at his mother kindly. He then put on his shirt and sat to enjoy a warm meal preparing himself for the long day ahead.

"No matter what that woman says, son, just brush it off. If you do your job like you're supposed, she would have nothing to say." Yaser gave his son the best piece of advice he could think of. Although his heart was heavy for making Zayn work at the Payne's after what Zayn had told him off Mrs. Payne yesterday, he had faith in his son and he knew he could handle her. Yaser had raised him well, after all. But he still hated the fact that he had to face that kind of people.

"I'll, father." Zayn answered after swallowing what he had in his mouth. He was nervous of course but moments like this with his parents made him relax a little.

"Did Gamal show you the road you would be walking to the Payne's house?" Yaser had asked that same question at least ten times before, but he wanted to leave nothing for chance. He can't have Zayn get lost and be late on his first day.

"Yes father. I know it." Zayn reassured his worried father again.

"Good." Yaser breathed as he sat on the couch next to the dining table where Zayn and Trisha were sat at.

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