The hospital air was sterile and suffocating, filled with the murmurs of hushed conversations and the distant hum of machines. Aditya Singhania rushed through the halls, his heart pounding louder than his hurried footsteps. The scene that greeted him froze him in his tracks—his children sat on the cold steel chairs of the waiting area.

Aman sat stiffly, his usually lively eyes fixed on a single spot on the floor, his face devoid of emotion. Kaira clung to Roshni, her small frame trembling as tears streamed down her face. Little Roshni whimpered softly, her face buried in Kaira’s chest, muffling her cries.

Aditya’s heart shattered at the sight. Pushing aside his emotions, he hurried to the doctor, his voice trembling with desperation. "Doc-doctor, m-my w-wife A-Ashwini—"

The words caught in his throat, his worst fears clawing at the edge of his mind.

The doctor’s face was heavy with sympathy as he placed a hand on Aditya’s shoulder. "I’m sorry, Mr. Singhania. By the time she was brought in, she was already…" He hesitated, but the word fell heavily. "Dead."

The doctor gave his shoulder a light pat before walking away, leaving Aditya standing there, paralyzed by grief. His world crumbled, the life he had built and cherished slipping away like grains of sand through his fingers.

He staggered back a step, his mind reeling. What was the point of his success, his wealth, his reputation, if the heart of his world, Ashwini, was gone? She had been the glue that held their family together, the light in their home.

Aditya's thoughts spiraled deeper into despair, but they were suddenly shattered by the anguished voice of Kaira.

Kaira turned abruptly, her face a mixture of fury and heartbreak. Her voice trembled as she yelled, her words slicing through the air like a whip. "Teri wajah se Mumma nahi hai!"

Roshni flinched, her wide, tear-filled eyes locking onto her sister. Confusion and hurt swirled in her tiny frame as she tried to reach out. Her small, trembling voice barely escaped her lips. "Di-Didi, ma-ma—"

But Kaira didn’t let her finish. "Tu agar zid nahi karti ice cream ki, toh Mumma yahaan hoti!" she shouted, her pain pouring out in sharp, merciless words.

In her overwhelming grief, Kaira shoved Roshni with more force than she intended. The little girl stumbled backward, falling to the cold hospital floor with a loud thud.

A sharp cry tore through the air as Roshni scraped her knees, the skin breaking and blood beading on the surface. "Mumma!" she whimpered, clutching her tiny legs, her voice breaking under the weight of her despair.

But Kaira’s anger hadn’t subsided. Her face twisted further as she screamed, her voice choked with tears. "I hate you!" Then, unable to bear the sight of her little sister, she turned and ran, her sobs echoing down the sterile hallway.

Aman stood silently, his face blank, his emotions locked away behind a wall of stoicism. He glanced at Roshni, his dark eyes unreadable, before turning and following Kaira, leaving the youngest Singhania behind.

Aditya, lost in the vortex of his own grief, didn’t notice the chaos unfolding before him. His mind replayed the doctor’s words, over and over, the reality of Ashwini’s death crushing him under its weight. He barely registered his children’s voices or cries, too consumed by his own despair.

His steps faltered, heavy and slow, as he walked away, leaving Roshni alone on the cold, unforgiving floor.

The little girl’s small body trembled as she pulled her scraped knees to her chest. Her hiccupped sobs echoed in the empty corridor, her voice breaking as she called out into the void. "Mumma... Mumma, p-please wapas aa jao," she whimpered, her soft, cracking voice carrying the plea of a child too young to understand the permanence of loss.

Her fingers clutched her knees tightly as if holding herself together, her tears falling freely. "Mumma…" she whispered again, but her words faded into the silence that enveloped her.

The world around her felt too big, too cold, and unbearably empty. The safety and warmth that had once surrounded her were gone, replaced by a hollow ache that no one seemed to notice.

Her cries continued, soft and broken, as the small girl sat alone, abandoned in her pain. And the silence offered no answers, no comfort—only the harsh reality of a loss too great for her tiny heart to bear.

Author POV

“MUMMA!!”

Roshni woke up with a start, her scream echoing in the quiet room. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her face was wet with sweat and tears. She pressed her hand to her mouth, trying to calm her shaky breaths. The same nightmare haunted her again—the little girl inside her still crying out for her mother.

Her room was small and simple. Books piled neatly on her desk were her only company. At 19, soon to be 20, Roshni was a college student. A quiet, studious girl who kept to herself, she stayed away from attention, but no amount of studying could help her forget the pain she carried.

At home, she was nothing more than a shadow. Her father, Aditya, and her brother, Aman, barely noticed her, acting like she didn’t exist. Her sister, Kaira, however, made her presence impossible to ignore.

The words Kaira had shouted at her years ago—"I hate you!"—still rang in her ears. They weren’t just words from an angry child anymore; they were Kaira’s truth. Her hatred had grown over the years, and now, it was something Roshni faced every day.

Kaira’s anger wasn’t just about their mother’s death anymore. As a child, Kaira had felt overlooked, like no one loved her as much as they loved Roshni. But after their mother passed away and Kaira fell ill, things had changed. For the first time, everyone focused on her. She felt important, cared for, and loved.

When Kaira got better, she couldn’t let go of that attention. She grew jealous of Roshni, who reminded her of the love she thought she never had. That jealousy, combined with the blame she placed on Roshni for their mother’s death, turned into hatred.

Roshni had learned to stay quiet and avoid conflict. She let Kaira’s harsh words and cruel behavior slide, ignored Aman’s cold indifference, and accepted her father’s neglect. But deep down, it hurt.

In college, Roshni stayed unnoticed, a nerdy girl with her nose in books. She didn’t complain, didn’t argue, and didn’t fight back. But at night, alone in her room, she was still that little girl, crying out for her mother.

She wiped her tears and got out of bed, walking to her desk to open a book. Reading was her escape. But even as she tried to focus, her thoughts wouldn’t leave her alone.

“Mumma…” she whispered, her voice soft and full of pain. Tears slipped down her cheeks again as she hugged herself tightly.

Roshni didn’t know if things would ever get better. Her family had moved on, but she hadn’t. She still carried guilt she didn’t deserve and a loneliness that no one seemed to notice.

Next Morning

Roshni pulled on a black full-sleeved hoodie and baggy pants, her go-to attire that made her feel invisible. Her short curly hair was combed neatly, and after grabbing her bag, she headed downstairs.

At the dining table, her father and brother were having breakfast, talking about something work-related. She glanced at them briefly but didn’t expect or receive a greeting. Her elder sister, Kaira, was nowhere in sight, and that was a small relief for Roshni. Without a word, she stepped out of the house, slipping her headphones on to drown out the world.

As she walked along the footpath, the music blaring in her ears, a familiar hand draped around her shoulders. She didn’t flinch—she knew who it was.

“Tushar,” she greeted silently with a faint smile.

Tushar, her best friend, leaned in with a mock whine, “Kya yaar, tu kabhi darti kyu nahi mujhse? At least pretend, na?”

She glanced at him sideways, her expression calm. “Tu hi toh mera safe space hai, jisse dar nahi lagta,” she replied, her voice cold yet carrying a softness meant only for him.

Tushar grinned, scratching the back of his head. “Hehe, voh-ab... maine itna bhi kuch khaas nahi.”

She shook her head lightly at his self-deprecating tone, used to his goofy charm.

You might wonder how Roshni, the quiet, introverted girl who was bullied relentlessly, ended up with a best friend like Tushar. Well, he’d walked into her life when she was just 10 years old. When everyone else avoided her or teased her, Tushar saw her for who she was. Since then, he’d been her constant, her only friend in a world that often felt too harsh.

They reached college, and as usual, Tushar broke off to drop his things at his locker. Roshni walked to hers, quietly organizing her books and notebooks.

Just as she was closing the locker door, a sharp impact knocked her head against it. She winced but didn’t react. She already knew who it was.

Riya, Kaira’s best friend, stood behind her with a smirk plastered on her face. “What’s up, nerdy? Oops, zyada lagi kya?” she mocked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Roshni didn’t answer. Silence was her defense.

Irritated by the lack of reaction, Riya grabbed a handful of Roshni’s curly hair and yanked it hard. “When I’m talking to you, you respond, samjhi?”

Roshni’s scalp burned, but she bit her lip, refusing to give Riya the satisfaction of hearing her cry out.

Riya leaned closer, her tone venomous. “You really think ignoring me will make me stop? Aw, sweetie, you’re dumber than you look.”

Roshni stared at the ground, her fingers gripping the strap of her bag tightly. Just endure it, she told herself.

Before Riya could escalate further, a loud voice interrupted, “Riya, what the hell are you doing?”

Tushar.

He stormed over, his expression dark and serious. Grabbing Riya’s wrist, he pulled her hand away from Roshni’s hair. “Touch her again, and I swear you’ll regret it,” he warned.

Riya scoffed, stepping back but not before shooting Roshni a glare. “You’re lucky your guard dog’s here, nerd.” She flipped her hair dramatically and walked away, her laughter echoing down the hall.

Tushar turned to Roshni, his gaze softening. “You okay?”

Roshni nodded, fixing her bag strap and avoiding his concerned eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Tushar, kaira hoti toh ab apni dost ko do lagati,” he said, shaking his head, unaware that Kaira herself was the one torturing Roshni and telling others to do the same.

Well, you might be wondering why Tushar is saying this. The thing is, Kaira always showed that she cared for her little sister in front of him.

But there was one more thing that no one knew—Tushar had a secret. He liked Kaira.

They both moved towards the class, focusing on their lectures. The hours passed slowly until it was time for the lunch break. As usual, Roshni was alone. Tushar had football practice, so she had no one to talk to or sit with.

She sat at a table in the corner, quietly eating her lunch when someone suddenly spat in her food. Roshni didn’t need to look up to know who it was. Kaira.

"Aww, sorry little sis, mujhe laga garbage hai isliye thuk diya," Kaira said with a smirk, watching Roshni’s face.

Roshni didn’t respond, though everyone around her could feel the uncomfortable tension. They felt bad for her, but no one dared to step in. After all, this college was part of the Singhaniya Group, and Kaira was untouchable here.

"Kya, zubaan nahi hai teri?" Kaira taunted, grabbing Roshni’s hair. Roshni stared at her with empty eyes, completely drained by the cruelty. Kaira slammed Roshni’s head onto the table, her voice dripping with malice as she ordered, "Khao use."

Roshni’s eyes were blank as she heard Kaira's demand. "Samajh nahi aa raha kya bola maine? Khao use!" Kaira’s voice became more venomous.

When Roshni still didn’t comply, Kaira signaled to Riya. Without hesitation, Riya yanked Roshni’s hair, forcing her head back. Kaira grabbed a full spoonful of the spit-covered food and shoved it into Roshni’s mouth.

Tears welled up in Roshni’s eyes as she choked on the food, but she remained silent.

Kaira continued to force-feed her, and then, with one last act of cruelty, slapped Roshni hard across the face. "Bloody loser," Kaira spat before turning and walking away with a smug expression on her face.

The canteen fell silent, and everyone watched in pity as Roshni gathered herself. She wiped her mouth and, without saying a word, stood up and left the canteen, making her way to the nearest washroom.

Roshni’s POV:

"Bloody loser."

Kaira’s words echoed in my mind, over and over again. Each repetition felt like a knife twisting deeper inside me. My heart raced, but my body felt numb, as if everything had frozen in place. It wasn’t the first time Kaira had done this to me, but somehow today felt worse. The sting of the slap, the humiliation, the taste of the food forced down my throat—it all felt too much to bear.

I washed my face in the cold water, trying to wipe away the tears that I refused to let fall. "You’re nothing, Roshni," I whispered to myself, trying to force the words out of my mind. But they wouldn’t go away. Would they ever?

End of POV

Someone’s POV:

A person sat in the dimly lit room, his gaze fixed on a picture of Roshni, framed neatly on the desk. The person traced a finger lightly along the edge of the frame, their eyes filled with determination and something deeper—an emotion that had long been buried.

"I’m coming to get you, my love," the person whispered, their voice low and filled with resolve. "I’ll free you from everything, from all of this."

The silence in the room thickened as they stood up, his hands clenching into fists. The look in his eyes hardened with purpose.

"I won't let anyone hurt you anymore. I swear it."

The person’s words were soft but firm, with an unwavering promise. They turned away from the picture, heading toward the door