Chapter 2
That very same afternoon, Mr Khan eventually arrived at his home.
“Hi, I’m home,” he shouted as he entered the hallway and then casually made his way to the front room where he found his daughter, Zhara Ayub, reading a colourful glossy magazine.
“Hi,” said Mr Khan as he saw his daughter.
“Oh, hi, Dad,” Zhara happily greeted her father.
“Sorry, I’m late, Zhara.”
“Is everything OK?” Zhara asked her father.
“Oh, everything’s fine. I was just speaking to Adam –”
“Adam in Year 11?” Zhara interrupted her father casually, still staring and reading her magazine.
“Yes, Adam in Year 11- the one in my Maths class.”
“Everything OK with him?” Zhara asked curiously.
“Oh, nothing – just a ‘man-to-man’ talk that’s all.”
“Sounds interesting,” commented Zhara.
“Anyway, where’s your mother?”
“Mum’s in the kitchen making roti [meaning ‘chapatti in Urdu].”
“Right.”