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SILENT SCARS TO STRENGTHS AT STORMS !
Part 1
The aroma of simmering spices filled the tiny kitchen, mingling with the soft hum of the fan overhead. The girl stood there, her beauty cloaked in weariness, rolling out chapatis while her mind raced over the endless pages she still needed to read for tomorrow’s lecture. Her mother sat on a stool nearby, her hands trembling as she struggled to peel vegetables.
“Amma, leave it,” the girl said gently, concern threading through her voice. “You need to rest. I’ll manage.”
Her mother looked up, her face pale and etched with years of silent endurance. “I can’t let you do everything,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “You already have enough on your plate.”
Before the girl could respond, a sharp voice rang out from the hall, slicing through the air. “What are you two whispering about in there?”
The tyrant appeared, her presence as commanding as ever. The sari she wore was immaculate, draped perfectly to uphold the image of grace and propriety...
The aroma of simmering spices filled the tiny kitchen, mingling with the soft hum of the fan overhead. The girl stood there, her beauty cloaked in weariness, rolling out chapatis while her mind raced over the endless pages she still needed to read for tomorrow’s lecture. Her mother sat on a stool nearby, her hands trembling as she struggled to peel vegetables.
“Amma, leave it,” the girl said gently, concern threading through her voice. “You need to rest. I’ll manage.”
Her mother looked up, her face pale and etched with years of silent endurance. “I can’t let you do everything,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “You already have enough on your plate.”
Before the girl could respond, a sharp voice rang out from the hall, slicing through the air. “What are you two whispering about in there?”
The tyrant appeared, her presence as commanding as ever. The sari she wore was immaculate, draped perfectly to uphold the image of grace and propriety...
