The sun filtered gently through the lace curtains, casting golden patterns across the wooden floor. A soft breeze carried the faint smell of jasmine from the balcony.

Ishita stirred beneath the cotton sheets, her lashes fluttering before she opened her eyes to the kind of morning most people dreamed of-quiet, slow, and honest.

But peace had never come easy to her.

She sat up, stretching with a quiet sigh. Her little apartment was simple but full of life-books piled beside the bed, a chipped mug on the nightstand, wind chimes singing softly outside the window.

"Ishitaa! seriously, are you coming down or should I come up and wake you myself."

                     ISHITA'S POV:

My eyes flew open.

"ohhh shittt"

If mom got angry this early in the morning, I was as good as dead.

I rushed through my morning routine brushing, changing, tying my hair into loose ponytail, and practically ran downstairs. If i didn't, she'd really come up- and then even god can't help me.

In the kitchen mom was already making breakfast, humming to herself I walked in trying to look helpful.

"ohh maharani ji uth gyi aap, Bhagya humare."

She said, eyes not even leaving the stove.

"hehe mumma you know nah how precious my sleep is to mee." I grinned, wrapping my arms around her.

"what are u making by the way?"

"Tere favorite aalo ke parathe."

"thankyouuu mumma! you're the best." I kissed her cheeks dramatically.

"Such a maska queen, sometimes I think I am adopted" my brother said walking into the kitchen with sleepy scowl.

"Excuse me! it's you who's the maskaqueen."I shot back, grabbing a glass of water.

"Aren't u guys getting late?" mom interrupted, turning the stove off with her signature glare.

"ohh shit! yes." I slapped my forehead.

"mummma, I forgot! because of this chirkut, I will be late and my boss would kill me - well, not really....he won't I think" ishaan added with nervous laugh.

"haan haan, just you and your boss" Preeti teased from the hallway, peeking in and raising an eyebrow.

"Okk bachho, have breakfast first" mom said, placing the hot parathas on the table.

At the table our name sake father was also present, reading his newspaper as if we didn't exist.

Let's not even go there.

He glanced at me once, then folded his newspaper with that irritating smirk.

"Still no internship offer, Ishita?" he said flatly."

"Don't think so. Maybe if you spend less time in sleeping and more time doing something useful..?"

"Such a ungrateful daughter you are Ishita"

The paratha in my hand suddenly didn't feel so warm.

I didn't respond. Not because I couldn't- but because I am tired of responding.

"Papa, she's been working hard. Just because it's not happening yet doesn't mean it won't."

His tone was Clam, but sharp . protective .

Our father snorted. " Hard work doesn't count if it leads nowhere. You'll understand that one day."

Mom glanced between us, tension stiff in her shoulders, but she said nothing.

The rest of breakfast passed in silence. Heavy. Unspoken.

And yet, as Ishaan handed me my bag before we left, he gave me a quick look that said: Don't listen to him. I've got you.

Somehow, that mattered more than the internship.

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Author's Note:

What did this chapter make you feel?

Drop a comment, share your thoughts, and don't forget to vote if you felt her pain.

The real storm hasn't even begun.

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