The front door of Shuna's family home acted as a gateway to Bangladesh.
Nothing haram passed through this door, this was a devout house. When
Shuna walked through this door, she switched her rebellious face to her
pious face, which eagerly absorbed the teaching of the Prophet, striving
to be a good Muslim girl. The switching between these two faces became
increasingly difficult as they grew further and further apart. 'Yes,
yes, yes I'll marry you!' I said to David. Although, after the celestial
shock wore off and dull reality set in, I realised there was a slight
problem. I would have to tell my very traditional parents that I was
going to marry a non-Muslim and confess my secret life. It's my wedding
day. My parents are absent. I'm not surprised. Why would my parents want
to celebrate their daughter's eternal damnation in hell fire?