Riya sat in the dimly lit kitchen, the hum of the refrigerator the only sound breaking the silence. She stared at the worn table, her parents’ absence like a cold, hollow ache in her chest.

It had been two months since the accident, two months since her world shattered.

At twenty-two, Riya had been thrust into a role she never anticipated: caretaker for her younger siblings, Rounak and Pari.

Raunak, at sixteen, was rebellious and angry, his grief manifesting in slammed doors and defiant glares.

Pari, only ten, clung to Riya, seeking comfort and reassurance.

Riya, always the quiet one, found herself at a loss. She had always been an introvert, finding solace in books and solitude. Now, her days were filled with responsibilities she felt ill-equipped to handle.

Riya worked long hours at the Company, her meager earnings stretched thin to cover bills and groceries.

She tried to maintain a façade of strength, never letting her siblings see the cracks in her armor.

She cooked, cleaned, and helped with homework, all while mourning the loss of...