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Zainab:
Everyone was waiting patiently to see what he would say; he is so unpredictable that I kept checking the clock to see if it had struck ten of the clock so that I and the other maids could leave whether or not the announcements had been made.

"Yes, Dad, I have someone in mind,"His voice jolted me out of my reverie, but I did not dare to look up, grateful that I was wearing the niqab.

"You are free to mention anyone; it is your choice," his father told him, and I noticed people smiling as if they loved the bond between father and son...I understand how his father feels because this is all for show.

"I want Zainab to be my assistant," he finally said, and it struck me that he said Zainab. Who is Zainab? There are a lot of other Zainab at this party, so it can not be me, but they will not ever accept what was he even thinking, so there must be someone else.Was he even conscious at all?

I was about to leave my spot because other maids had left as soon as it struck ten of the clock in the evening, but it was now 10.05 p.m. and I was still here.

I turned to look at my evil aunt, who was glaring at me and threatening to choke me if I had been close. Oh God, what was Zahid doing?

I was about to walk out of the party room when I suddenly stopped, one foot in the air, and stepped back into the room, frozen.

"Zainab Hassan, I want you to be my assistant in our company, handling all work," Zahid said, and I became nervous, so I did not turn to see how others reacted.

I knew all pairs of eyes were on me, even those who disliked me. Why was Zahid making things difficult for me? Why was he following me? What will I say in front of his crowd?

"How will she deal with everything when she does not even know how to speak English or handle herself?" My uncle questioned him (his father) in an irritated tone; he did not like his son's idea and was judging me again. It took me a moment to realize that he was different, but when he said it in front of everyone, it hurt a lot. It is not like I do not know English; I do, but it is not my first language.

Still, I did not go back. Instead of fleeing, I stood there and wiped my tears. At that moment, I thought Zahid might reconsider, and I heard his mother's voice—the voice of his evil aunt—and my pain intensified.

"She is a low-class maid who is niqabi and never pays attention to what we say. How will she be of assistance to you?" His mother's words broke my heart even more because I knew they would always despise me for the same reasons they hated my family—how could my parents and sister live with them?

Did she forget that she was poor, because she was saying that I was niqabi and low class, even though she was once the same? remaining with us, and now that they are wealthy, well-liked, and have a family, relationships do not matter.

He said, "Mom dad, please," but instead of offering to defend me or not judge me because that is how these people are, I wiped away my tears and asked myself, What was I even doing here, listening to their hurtful words?

"What else do you know about her? She is just an orphan who lost her parents and sister."Rehmat stated that she was supporting her parents, so she only knew I was an orphan and not their cousin; perhaps the mother did not feel it necessary to inform her that we were related.

She knows everything about my sister, and she told Zahid and everyone else, including strangers. My throat felt dry, and my voice did not seem to come out as usual, bringing back painful memories.

I am glad she did not find out what else happened to me; it was the darkest period of my life, and I thanked Allah for that.

Even though my parents have passed away, I am still alive, have emotions, and am a human being. These people have no right to disparage or condemn me, so how can I confront them with strength? Everyone was present, except for the grandparents, who were missing.

So, Zainab, will you accept my offer to be my assistant?"Yes, or no?" He inquired again. I have to show these people what I am capable of doing and how I can manage my life, regardless of whether I am a low-class maid, orphan, or know little English; there are those who come first in class and remain at home doing nothing.

"Yes, or no?" With my back to them, I continued to face them. I heard his voice, and he appeared to be waiting patiently, almost eagerly for my response.

I wiped my tears and stood there thinking I knew some people were staring at me while others were waiting for my response, and I knew what to say because I knew it would change everything. I was nervous and scared because I had never spoken in front of hundreds of people before, but there is always the first time, and I smiled because I knew he was waiting for my response.

"Do you think the maid will say yes or no?" he asked, prompting whispering among the group.Even though they were whispering and asking each other quietly, I could hear what was going on nearby.

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