seven

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chapitre sept
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Isra wasn't one for politics, but her father's words sent shivers down her spine. Germany was under the control of the Nazi Party, and they had a vice-like grip on the nation that showed no signs of loosening. The ruling government had banned all other political parties, leaving no room for dissent or opposition. The country was being molded into a military powerhouse, with the regime actively preparing for conflict. Anyone who dared to speak out against the government was met with brutal suppression.

What's worse, the regime had begun implementing its monstrous policies of racial discrimination and persecution, with the Jewish population and other minority groups being particularly targeted. The situation was causing growing concern in France, which had witnessed the rearmament of Germany and its expansionist policies. Many feared that Germany's ambitions would only continue to grow, and that war was looming on the horizon.

However, France was still struggling to recover from the devastating effects of World War I and was hesitant to engage in another conflict. Despite the rising threat posed by Nazi Germany, France remained cautious about entering into a new war. The fear and uncertainty of what the future held was palpable, and the possibility of war weighed heavily on the minds of many.

"The Germans won't come here, right, baba?" she asked anxiously.

Her father put down the morning paper and smiled at her tentatively. "Of course not, sweetheart. France is a powerful nation. They'll put a stop to the Germans before they cross our border."

"It's terrible what they're doing to the Jews."

As Isra contemplated the dire situation in Germany, she couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt and privilege. Despite any challenges she may have faced in her new life in France, she knew that she was infinitely better off than the Jewish people being persecuted in Germany. How could she complain about anything when they were facing such unspeakable horrors?

She knew that they would give anything to be in her shoes, living in Paris and able to exist without fear of discrimination or violence. Isra realized that her own struggles paled in comparison to the unimaginable suffering that so many others were enduring.

"You don't need to worry, Isra. It'll be over soon." He spoke with a calmness and conviction that gave Isra some comfort, even as she struggled to believe that things would ever truly be okay again.

"But how can you be so sure, Papa?" Isra asked, her voice tinged with concern.

"I have faith that the world will come to its senses and put an end to this madness. The Nazi regime cannot last forever, and eventually, reason will prevail," her father replied, his eyes shining with hope.

"Okay, baba. I trust you," Isra tried to muster a smile.

Isra's breakfast suddenly lost all its taste as she continued to eat in silence, keenly aware of the tension that was mounting in the dining room. She looked up at her parents, only to see that they were engaged in a silent discussion that seemed to be going nowhere.

Suddenly, her father broke the silence. "Your mother told me that you plan on marrying Haadi this summer," he stated.

Isra's heart skipped a beat, and she dropped her fork on the plate, her appetite vanishing in an instant. She turned to her mother, her eyes wide with shock. "You told him?" she asked.

"I'm sorry, Isra," her mother muttered, her eyes welling up with tears. "I had to. I'm so worried and--"

"Why did you tell him?" She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, and her hands clenched into fists on her lap. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her chest that she was afraid her parents would be able to hear it. "You know how he feels about Haadi and his family. You know what he thinks of him. Why would you do this?"

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