nineteen

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chapitre dix-neuf
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July of 1937.

Japan had invaded China, marking the beginning of the Second Sino-Japanese War. The war emerged from escalating tensions between China and Japan, culminating in the Imperial Japanese Army's full-scale invasion of China. Later that month, Isra had heard the occasional snippet of news from her parents regarding Germany and the Reich. Concentration camps had been built or were in the process of being built.

Plenty had changed for many across Europe, but life had fallen into a familiar yet exciting routine for Isra Mansouri since last year.

As the gentle morning light shone through a crack in the curtains, Isra stirred from her slumber, her eyes slowly fluttering open. She felt a weight holding her place when she attempted to stretch her limbs, and peering down, she saw Marcel. His cheek rested against her bosom, his body rising and falling rhythmically with each peaceful breath.

She almost couldn't believe that this was the same man she had accidentally bumped into at the post office two years prior. And now, he was the man she would marry by the end of August.

Since her eighteenth birthday, Isra and Marcel had become inseparable, their bond growing stronger with each passing day. As she spent less time at home and more with Aisha, her parents couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the sudden shift in her priorities. Little did they suspect the romantic nature of her relationship with Marcel, a secret kept well hidden.

However, everything changed on Christmas Eve, when fate dealt a revealing hand. Tarek, her father, happened to walk by Marcel's office and caught a glimpse of an intimate moment-a fleeting kiss shared between his daughter and Marcel. The sight incited a surge of anger in him, a ferocity he had rarely shown, not even in his fiercest moments with Haadi. Fuelled by a torrent of emotions, he stormed into the room where Marcel stood, his fist colliding with the unsuspecting man's jaw.

She remembered shrieking and attempting to push her father away. "Baba, stop!"

"You're dating my daughter, Marcel?" he roared. They were fortunate that no patients were present, but the secretary had rushed upstairs to see what the commotion was about.

Isra told her that she would handle the situation, and she left and returned to her desk.

"Baba--"

He spun around and their eyes locked. "How long, Isra?"

Her eyes shifted to her lover, who was holding his bruised jaw. "Since my birthday."

"Four months," he said aloud. "And you kept it a secret from me."

"I'm sorry," Marcel said, his tone apologetic. "But, Tarek, I really love Isra. Truly, I do. I care about her."

Isra's heart pounded in her chest as she tried to find the right words to defuse the tension. "Baba, please listen. I wanted to tell you, but I didn't know how you'd react."

"Well, you're right about that. I'm not exactly thrilled at the moment." He glanced back at Marcel, sizing him up before turning his attention back to Isra. "And you kept it a secret for this long, Isra?"

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and she cast a sheepish look at Marcel. "Yes," she admitted.

"And you're sure about him?"

"I am." She nodded, shuffling closer to the young doctor. "I love him."

Some time passed. He seemed to be trying to make a decision, until, at last, he sighed, folding his arms across his chest. "Well, you better take good care of her," he said, half-jokingly, half-seriously. "She's my little girl, you know."

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