Kirti pov:
I woke up to the faint warmth of sunlight falling on my face.
For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the cracked ceiling of the storeroom I called my room. Dust floated in the air, and the silence felt heavy... almost suffocating.
Then came the knock.
Loud. Impatient.
"Kriti! How long will you take?" Rashmi's voice pierced through the door.
My body felt heavy as I tried to sit up, but the moment I moved, a sharp pain shot through my back. I winced, pressing my hand against it, waiting for the pain to settle.
Another knock. Louder this time.
"I'm coming..." I whispered, even though I knew she wouldn't care.
I somehow managed to stand and walked toward the door, each step slower than the last.
As soon as I opened it, I saw her-my stepmother-standing there with that familiar look of irritation.
"Well, well," she said mockingly. "Madam is still sleeping? Who do you think will do all the housework?"
I lowered my gaze, staying silent.
I had learned a long time ago that answering back only made things worse.
Before I could react, her hand came down hard across my cheek.
The sound echoed in the small space.
"Useless girl," she muttered before walking away.
I stood there for a second, my cheek burning, my eyes stinging... but no tears fell.
They never did. Not anymore.
The rest of the morning passed like it always did.
Cleaning. Washing. Cooking.
My hands moved automatically, as if they already knew what to do. Maybe they did. After all, this had been my routine for years.
By the time I finished everything and prepared breakfast, my body felt like it could give up any second.
Footsteps echoed from the stairs.
I looked up to see Miya coming down.
For a second, our eyes met.
There was something in her gaze-something soft, almost like concern. She wasn't like Rashmi. She never was.
But things between us were never simple.
Too many misunderstandings... too many words said by someone else.
I quietly placed the breakfast on the table and stepped back, avoiding any conversation.
Silence filled the room.
And somehow... it felt louder than any noise.
After finishing all the work, I finally went back to my room.
My body ached, but I ignored it. Sitting down on the bed, I closed my eyes for a second, trying to breathe.
Just then, my phone buzzed.
I frowned and picked it up.
An email.
I didn't expect anything important, but still, I opened it.
And then... I froze.
It was from an NGO.
They were offering me an interview.
My fingers tightened around the phone as I read the message again, just to be sure I wasn't imagining it.
The last date was tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
A small, unfamiliar feeling rose inside my chest.
Hope.
"I can do this..." I whispered to myself.
For the first time in a long time, I didn't feel completely stuck.
I quickly grabbed my notebook and started preparing-reading, writing, practicing answers under my breath.
Time passed without me noticing.
The house grew quiet. The world outside slowed down.
But I kept going.
Maybe because I didn't want to lose this chance.
Or maybe... because I wanted to believe that my life could be more than this.
I don't remember when I fell asleep.
My notebook was still in my hands, my thoughts unfinished.
And somewhere between exhaustion and hope...
sleep took over.
I hadn't even eaten dinner.
But
for once... it didn't matter.
Because tomorrow-
maybe, just maybe...
everything could change
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