"Go to your room and rest, Meher," Ramesh said firmly, helping her sit on the sofa. "You've been through enough."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off gently, "No arguments. You're not fine. And from now on, no more hiding your pain."

He turned toward his wife and daughter, his eyes sharp.
"And you two — bring her breakfast. She hasn't eaten properly in two days."

Tanya scoffed and walked off with a bang of her heels.
Mrs. Sharma muttered under her breath but followed.

The sudden kitchen noises — loud banging of utensils, water running aggressively — made it clear: they weren't happy.

But for once... Meher didn't care.

She quietly climbed the stairs to her room, dragging her tired body into the quiet space that never quite felt hers... yet today, it offered a strange kind of peace.

She closed the door gently behind her and let out a breath.

Her legs gave up first as she slumped onto the bed. Her body was tired, but her soul? It was stitched together by strangers — kindness she never saw coming.

As she leaned her head back on the pillow, a faint buzzing sound startled her.

She reached for the nightstand and saw her phone blinking — dozens of missed notifications glowing on the screen.

Messages. Missed calls. Emails.

Her brows furrowed as she unlocked the screen.

"Congratulations! You've been shortlisted for the role of Administrative Assistant."
"Kindly appear for a walk-in interview tomorrow at..."
"Shortlisted – Assistant to Regional Director, stipend ₹12,000."
"Interview Call: HR Assistant – Bangalore Office."

Her eyes widened.

Three different emails. Two calls. Even a LinkedIn message.

All offering assistant roles — maybe not what she dreamt of, and definitely not high-paying — but opportunities, finally knocking on her door.

The salaries were modest. The roles weren't ideal. But it meant something she craved more than anything.

Independence. Dignity. A chance to breathe on her own.

Her lips trembled into the faintest smile.

Maybe it wasn't the end.

Maybe... it was the start of something she could call hers.

....

The late morning sun poured in through the soft curtains of Meher's room as she sat cross-legged on her bed, phone still clutched in her hand.

She stared at the screen, her heart racing.
Not with fear anymore — but purpose.

Tomorrow was going to be her first step... into the world on her own terms.

The roles weren't exactly what she dreamt of. But they were hers to earn.
And that meant more than anything else.

She got up, walked over to the mirror, and stared at her reflection.

Pale skin, tired eyes, lips dry... but beneath all that — a fire she hadn't seen in herself for years.

"I have to look confident," she whispered to herself.
"Strong. Capable. Like I belong."

Her thoughts were broken by a soft knock on the door.

"Meher?" her uncle's voice came gently from the other side.

She walked to open it, and Ramesh stood there holding a tray — toast, fruits, boiled eggs, and a glass of juice.

"I didn't know what you'd like after all this," he said softly. "So I made a little of everything."

Her eyes welled up again — not from sadness, but because someone remembered.

Someone still cared.

She took the tray, placed it on her table, and turned to him with a soft smile.
"Chachu... I got interview calls."

Ramesh blinked. "Interview? Really?"

She nodded. "Tomorrow. Three different companies. All assistant roles. Low pay... but I'll manage."

He smiled — wide and proud.

"That's all that matters, Meher. You're trying."

She looked down, her voice small but steady. "I need this job. I need to stand on my own now. No more feeling like a burden."

Ramesh placed a hand on her head. "You were never a burden. And I'll always be here. But I'm proud of you for wanting to fight."

A warm silence passed between them.

He turned to leave but added with a grin, "We'll get you something nice to wear. You'll look confident. They won't know what hit them."

Meher smiled through her tears.

Yes.
Tomorrow — she wouldn't just attend an interview.
She'd own it.