Sitting quietly in a car, Asha was politely looking forward, her hands resting on her familiar old notebook.
The sun warmly touched her face, highlighting her beautiful emerald eyes and the delicate balance of childishness and maturity in her features.
Priyanka held her hands without reservation, but Asha didn't react; she kept her fixed stare, blinking slowly in an almost timed manner.
She was always like that—emotionless to all the events around her.
Though there wasn't anything wrong with her body, she wouldn't speak or even acknowledge what people said.
Despite her composed exterior, she never looked anyone in the eye.
Her head inclined in the direction of a person's face, but her eyes seemed lifeless, unfocused on their nose or mouth.
She wouldn't react to the objects around her; her gaze remained fixed on a single point.
When she immersed herself in her thoughts or drawings, she wouldn't notice anyone around until she finished what she was doing.
She always seemed to be living in her own small world.
Priyanka had been watching her day and night. Analyzing her habits and uncommon behavior, a thought began to form in her mind.
Maybe traumas weren't the only things buried inside her.
Her daughter might have autism.
It was common for children with autism to show similar symptoms—specific interests, avoidance of eye contact, a tendency for isolation, and a lack of social understanding.
Some autistic children also had sensitive hearing, but Asha couldn't hear, making her an exception.
Her words were always concise and precise. Her letters were extremely neat; Priyanka had never seen handwriting as beautiful and methodical as Asha's.
The same was true for her drawings; they were far beyond what one would expect from a child.
It was hard for kids to create three-dimensional drawings, as people naturally relied on a simplistic signaling system.
Yet Asha had somehow learned a three-dimensional approach on her own.
There was no need for IQ tests to gauge her intellect—Priyanka was certain she was a genius.
Some people might overlook her signals, but Asha also had a very kind and warm heart.
After an exhausting meeting with the social services worker, Asha rested Priyanka's head on her lap, gently stroking her hair in an attempt to comfort her.
Priyanka still felt ashamed for showing such vulnerability to the child she was meant to protect, but this scene clarified many doubts in her heart.
She considered her a close friend, perhaps the closest in the entire hospital.
Asha had only talked with two people in two weeks: Priyanka and Nurse Maria.
Whenever interaction with others was necessary, she would clutch Priyanka's clothes, as if using them as a shield.
There wasn't a single exam when she hadn't clung to her coat.
Her traumas weren't superficial; considering her intellect, maturity, and disposition, family neglect alone wouldn't have broken her so deeply.
Priyanka didn't need to think long to know the kind of scary experiences she had endured—abuse, both physical and mental, from all angles.
Her mature body told the story itself.
Suddenly, Asha's hands began to tremble—an unmistakable signal of anxiety or fear.
Priyanka sharply glanced outside to see what was happening.
It seemed a traffic accident had occurred. One man was apologizing repeatedly, while another was shouting loudly.
The shouting man wore a black suit; his fancy, expensive car contrasted starkly with the anxious posture and terrified face of the other man involved.
The situation was tense, and it might have triggered Asha's traumas.
'Black suit...'
Asha wasn't looking directly at the scene, so how had she noticed?
Did she hear it?
Physically, she had no issues; perhaps the information reached her brain but couldn't be processed.
Yet instinctively, she sensed someone was shouting outside.
Her mind may have hidden her hearing to protect her, but her naturally sensitive hearing remained intact.
An image of a man shouting and beating her body flashed in Priyanka's mind.
Her breathing became irregular, and before she realized it, she was hugging Asha tightly, trying to shield her from all the world's troubles.
"Doug, let's take another route."
It wasn't wise to linger and trigger Asha's traumas further.
"It seems the street is crowded."
Many people were recording the accident, and the cars crawled away from the scene. However, the traffic jam stretched the road significantly.
The only option was to wait patiently for the cars to pass to avoid another accident.
Fortunately, Asha had calmed a little in Priyanka's embrace.
'Why today of all days?'
The last thing Priyanka wanted was for Asha to endure more hardships. She had already suffered enough at the hands of cruel people.
She tenderly caressed her hair, hoping to ease her worries.
As she glanced at the man in the black suit, Priyanka grew reflective.
If Asha could somehow perceive sounds, would she ever regain her ability to hear and speak?
What if her silence stemmed from traumatic experiences?
Had she been punished every time she tried to speak?
If she screamed, would she have been beaten? Perhaps the one who abused her had sadistic tendencies.
Someone who took pleasure in torturing another, relishing their despair.
All the pieces seemed to fit together.
Asha had deliberately unlearned to speak, masking her true feelings behind a façade of maturity and composure.
Priyanka questioned whether Asha had amnesia.
Maybe she simply didn't want to talk about it.
Her understanding of the world seemed far too sophisticated for a child with amnesia.
But would someone with amnesia react so strongly to triggers?
She was also clever enough to feign amnesia.
Why hide it from everyone? The reason was clear.
She was afraid of returning to her past—whether that meant family or an organization that exploited her.
Someone without memories wouldn't pose a threat to those people.
But perhaps, given her kind heart, she hid the truth not just to protect herself but also others.
Was the government involved in this?
Priyanka's suspicions were not unfounded; the military dictatorship had ended long ago, but countless kidnappings and illegal activities persisted, linked to various governments.
In Argentina, events like the "Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo" still unfolded, families desperately searching for their lost children.
It wasn't impossible that shadows lurked, committing atrocities.
Cases like this had even surfaced in Empire City, with numerous reports of exploitation in the entertainment industry.
Priyanka had valid reasons to believe Asha was one of those special cases.
How far had she gone to protect those around her?
She was too good for this world.
The car crept through the chaos. The shouting man was closer than ever.
Shack...!
Asha's hands trembled uncontrollably again.
Priyanka hugged her tighter, small tears brimming in her red-rimmed eyes.
She wanted to confront that foolish man yelling in the street, scaring her child.
But all she could do was stay by Asha's side and close her eyes to the turmoil.
No matter how many times Asha was scared, Priyanka would wrap her in love.
She was the only adult Asha relied on in this world.
'I won't betray that trust.'
With determined eyes, Priyanka held Asha close, stroking her hair.
She would be the mother this child never had.
There was nothing she wouldn't do for her.
*
Luckily, the rest of the trip was uneventful.
They finally arrived at home. It was a ground-floor house, slightly removed from the bustling city.
Priyanka was grateful they hadn't chosen a two-story house. Asha couldn't walk, and it would be dangerous to carry her up the stairs.
Doug turned off the car and took the wheelchair from the trunk.
Since Asha might be afraid to face another adult, Priyanka was the one to place her in the wheelchair.
When she held her in her arms, she felt intoxicated.
The scent of hospital antiseptic still clung to Asha, but beneath it was a faint, natural fragrance of fresh, sweet lavender.
Her body was as light as a feather. Priyanka felt she could hold her all day without breaking a sweat.
Asha had an aura that made people instinctively want to care for her. It was the only explanation for the overwhelming maternal feelings Priyanka experienced whenever she held her.
With reluctance, Priyanka placed the girl in the wheelchair.
It was already afternoon; by now, Connie should have been inside.
Tok-Tok—
After knocking on the door, footsteps sounded from within.
Priyanka anticipated Asha's reaction to seeing Connie.
Until now, the only people around her had been adults. She had never interacted with anyone her age.
Asha was registered as a 9-year-old child—the oldest possible age.
Priyanka wanted her and Connie to attend the same school, and if possible, the same class.
Connie had turned 10 this year, and while the one-year difference made it unclear if they could be in the same class, even if they weren't, just getting along would be enough.
Priyanka had been rethinking the way she raised her daughter over the past two weeks.
It wasn't a good idea to let Connie idle at home. Priyanka had complete control over her diet, what she consumed, and her grades, but there was a lack of close contact as a normal family.
She had planned to enroll Connie in tennis and music clubs to diversify her routine but still struggled to find free time from work.
Even on her days off, the hospital would call, asking her to perform surgeries. As the most dedicated member, Priyanka never refused, but now she was beginning to doubt those decisions.
As a mother of two children, one with special needs, she realized she needed to make drastic changes to her mindset.
The first step was to foster the relationship between the two and, little by little, balance her work.
Creek.
When Connie opened the door, her expression was shocked.
Two doubtful eyes stared at her, but she still maintained her calm.
"Connie, this will be your new sister."
"Hi?"
At the same time, Priyanka wrote a note for Asha, who was stoically looking at Connie.
[This is my daughter.]
[What is her name?]
Asha wrote faster than usual, and instead of broken words, she wrote an entire sentence.
Was she excited about her new home? A smile appeared on Priyanka's face before she realized it.
[Connie, she will be your new sister.]
When she finished the word "sister," her hands started to shake slightly.
[Get along well.]
Just as she finished her sentence, Priyanka noticed something was wrong.
"Eh?!"
Asha had fainted, almost falling to the ground before Priyanka could react.
Connie instinctively caught her in her arms while Priyanka was distracted writing.
Priyanka was completely shocked, an unusual reaction for a trained doctor like her.
"Are you okay?!"
Just when she heard her daughter's words, the world started to spin again.
"Let me see her!"
"H-Here...!"
Connie quickly extended Asha's body to her.
When Priyanka checked her heartbeat and breathing, everything was normal.
They were steady, as always, but Asha had suddenly fainted seconds after writing the word "sister."
"Is she okay?!"
Doug asked in a hurried tone while supporting Priyanka's back with his hands.
"She's just sleeping. It's not serious."
"Let's bring her to the bed, give her to me."
Doug extended his arms, signaling her to hand over Asha.
But Priyanka hesitated.
"No, I'll carry her—"
Before she could finish, Doug grabbed her shoulder with his firm hands.
"Honey, you're overworking yourself again. Have you looked at your face?"
'My face?'
Was there something wrong with her face?
As if Doug had read her thoughts, he took a pocket mirror from his hand and showed it to Priyanka.
A woman with red eyes, dark circles, pale skin, and a worried expression stared back at her.
Was that her? She hadn't realized how exhausted she looked.
"As a doctor, you should know better than anyone what you're doing. Go rest."
Even hearing her husband's rational words, Priyanka was stubborn.
"No, she's light. I can at least carry her."
"Priyanka."
Doug's hands were firm on her shoulders, his expression serious and determined, signaling he wouldn't make concessions.
He used to call her "Honey" or "My love," but when discussing serious matters, he always used her name.
"We're married. You can rely on me." His eyes were honest and insistent. "What kind of husband would I be if I let my wife work herself to exhaustion? Let me take care of you for a moment."
His hand slid down from her shoulder to her wrist.
"Alright..."
Priyanka reluctantly handed Asha over to him.
She wanted to check her documents again and verify her condition. Maybe there was a subtle issue with her blood pressure or some form of diabetes that had caused her to faint.
But before she could dive into her research, Doug, who was walking out the door with Asha in his arms, paused and looked back at her.
"And you need to sleep too. You promised me, didn't you?"
The word "promise" was Priyanka's weakness. She always fulfilled her promises, even at the cost of her health.
And, of course, Doug knew it well.
"Okay, you win."
Priyanka decided to postpone her worries until later.
Only after hearing her clear answer did Doug leave the room with Asha.
Connie and Priyanka were left alone.
"Is she okay, Mom?"
Connie asked, holding Priyanka's hand in worry.
"She's a little unstable," Priyanka replied, gently caressing her daughter's hair to soothe her. "Many bad things have happened to her."
"Bad things?"
Connie was confused by her mother's words, but she couldn't deny that the girl seemed strange after fainting in her arms.
Connie wasn't naive. Her grades were excellent, and she had read many novels and books.
One of the books she had read was about a very frail girl who was adopted by a family of bears. The title was Golden Girl.
The girl's health was so poor that she often fainted and needed the constant care of the bears.
The daddy bear was strong and taught her self-defense.
The mommy bear was kind and taught her the importance of health and a good diet.
The brother bear was a spoiled child who often did the opposite of what his parents taught, unintentionally showing the consequences of ignoring their lessons.
The story had many alternate endings because Golden Girl was a blank slate.
If she followed only her dad's lessons, she became an angry and troublesome girl, hurting those around her without care.
If she followed only her mommy's lessons, she would be unable to refuse favors and be taken advantage of by others.
The brother was spoiled and distant. If she followed his path, she ran away and was targeted by wolves.
The only happy ending occurred when the girl listened to both her parents and formed a good relationship with her brother.
The story taught Connie how influential a person could be to those around them.
That's why her mother's next words had such a strong effect.
"She will be your little sister from now on," Priyanka said, looking directly into Connie's eyes as if entrusting her with a heavy responsibility. "As her older sister, you need to be an example and take care of her."
'Older sister...'
The word "older sister" had a stronger impact on Connie than she'd expected.
Connie didn't think she was ready to be an older sister. She could barely take care of herself.
But her mother's eyes were decisive and firm, waiting for her approval.
"I will."
The words came out of her mouth before she could think.
A warm hand stroked her hair tenderly.
Her mother was usually reserved, so this kind of frequent touch felt strange to Connie.
"I'm counting on you."
But Connie didn't dislike it.
The responsibility felt heavy, but her mother believed in her.
The confidence her mother conveyed through small gestures slowly began to shift Connie's anxious mind toward a more determined one.
"Yes, Mother."
She decided to try.
*
Author note
The thing of older sisters invaded my two stories lol. I did not even have a sister, but let's go ~(￣▽￣)~*.
I hope you like it!