Morning sunlight slowly entered the small, worn-out house in a quiet corner of Mumbai.....But for Y/N, mornings were never peaceful before the sun could fully rise… she was already awake her soft hands moved quickly—Sweeping the floor…Washing utensils…Preparing tea…Not because she wanted to…but because she had to “Y/N!” her stepmother’s sharp voice echoed through the house Y/N rushed immediately, lowering her gaze her stepmother pointed at the kitchen angrily, “Can’t you do anything properly? Look at this mess!” Y/N quickly shook her head, her fingers moving in sign language, trying to explain—I will clean it… I’m sorry…But no one in that house understood her language and no one wanted to Her father sat in the corner, reading the newspaper his eyes didn’t even lift to look at her to him… she wasn’t his daughter she was a reminder of the woman he lost a mistake shanti walked in, well-dressed, rolling her eyes “Ugh… she’s still here?” she muttered Y/N quietly stepped aside, making space for her her existence in that house was like a shadow—Always present…But never acknowledged .

HOURS PASSED