Priyanka needed to rest, but in the end, she couldn't sleep for more than thirty minutes.
Worries about her daughter still consumed her mind. Even though she was exhausted to the point of collapse, she remained awake.
To distract herself, she began preparing lunch—a healthy, balanced vegetable soup.
All the nutrients the body needed were present in an easy-to-digest form.
Asha had no physical issues, but Priyanka never offered her solid foods. It wasn't just because she was concerned about the potential impact on Asha's body, but also because Asha wasn't able to chew solid food properly.
Much of it would be chewed awkwardly and swallowed improperly.
That was a detail the staff might overlook, but Priyanka had paid close attention to all aspects of her daughter's habits.
Physically, Asha was fine. The real issue was psychological. She had no appetite, and no desire to eat or enjoy food.
People who were traumatized or depressed often suffered from similar symptoms. At some point, the act of eating became meaningless to them, and even getting out of bed felt like an impossible task.
This was why Priyanka was so worried about Asha. If she was lying about her memories, it meant she was like a ticking bomb, ready to explode at any moment.
Even an adult who had gone through similar experiences might suffer a mental breakdown, but Asha still managed to live and react to the world in her own way.
She could communicate and exchange information, albeit in a fragmented way. But there were moments when she experienced overwhelming depressive episodes.
The image of her daughter standing by the window, hand outstretched, flashed in Priyanka's mind, making her frown.
She had personally instructed Maria to stay by Asha's side as much as possible and locked all the windows. Only when Asha slept would Priyanka or Maria leave the room.
Asha would shake her hands whenever she was going through a crisis. Since they left the hospital, her crises had become more frequent. Asha had trembled many times in the car, even when there were no obvious triggers.
The hospital had probably become her safe haven. Many of the people there were young adults and elderly women, but when Asha met Connie, a child, she fainted.
Priyanka had some hypotheses to explain this behavior.
The first was that Asha had never seen another child, and the fear of the unknown caused her to faint. Although it seemed improbable that Asha had never seen another child, it was possible.
If she had been kidnapped and imprisoned at a young age, she wouldn't have had many opportunities to see other children, only the adults who confined her and kept her from the real world.
Yet, Asha had a mature mind that couldn't have developed in isolation. She had also received an education—she could read and write.
So, she must have attended school up to a certain point, or she had been personally taught by her captors.
In this case, the interaction with Connie might have caused an initial shock until Asha could adjust to the concept of another child.
Her second hypothesis was that Asha was familiar with the concept of a child, but seeing Connie triggered memories of her past.
There was no guarantee that Asha had been the only one imprisoned. Perhaps her captors had done the same to other children.
Asha might have seen traces of those children in Connie, and this made her believe she had returned to the place of her trauma. The shock was so intense that she fainted.
The second hypothesis seemed the most probable. It wasn't common for kidnappers to invest so much in a child's education.
Asha was likely kidnapped at some point during her early schooling.
Either way, neither hypothesis was good news for Priyanka.
Asha needed to become familiar with her new environment and accept it as a place where she could feel safe.
Maybe then, she would be able to interact with Connie without fainting.
Priyanka looked at the pot of soup with misty eyes. Every time she thought about Asha, more pieces of the puzzle fit together, forming an even more terrifying picture.
She was certain her observations weren't just wild ideas. All her hypotheses were grounded in hints and clear facts from reality.
Her body began to tremble as she dwelled on these thoughts.
She wanted to be wrong about all her theories.
However, the image of Asha extending her hands toward the window, her terrifying drawings, and her unstable mind, only convinced Priyanka more that she was closer to the truth than she wanted to be.
"I need to see her."
After finishing the meal, this was the only thought in Priyanka's mind.
Doug had gone to their room, so Asha might be there.
Her legs moved before she could think of anything else.
When Priyanka came to her senses, she was already standing in front of the door to her room.
Creek...
She opened the door slowly, as if not wanting to wake Asha. It was a meaningless, instinctive action—she couldn't hear her sounds.
What greeted her eyes was the sight of a little girl sitting with her hands on her thighs, staring blankly into space.
Seeing that Asha was awake, Priyanka approached without hesitation.
Shack.
Suddenly, her hands started to tremble as she tried to reach out to her.
It was the first time Asha had trembled when Priyanka tried to touch her. Priyanka could instinctively sense that she was afraid of something.
Asha had just left the hospital and was now living with people she had never met before.
She had always struggled to deal with strangers, and the stress must have accumulated to the point that even surrounded by people she trusted, she felt fear.
Priyanka hesitated. What should she do now?
Maybe Asha just needed time to adjust to her new home, but what if she couldn't?
She had to do something.
Priyanka extended her arms and hugged Asha tightly.
Her hands still trembled from fear. Normally, by now, she would have calmed down, but this time, her shaking persisted.
"It's okay," Priyanka said softly, stroking her head with melancholic eyes. "You're safe here."
She continued stroking Asha's soft, straight hair, resting her face against her in a protective embrace.
After some time, Asha's trembling hands finally became steady again.
Even so, Priyanka kept stroking her head, lost in thought.
'Can I give this child the attention she truly deserves in the long term?'
As a doctor, her work hours were long, and she rarely had time to spend at home. Even though she wanted to change this aspect of her life, it would take time.
School was another issue—Asha would have to deal with many people. The thought of her daughter trembling with fear among so many children made Priyanka's heart ache.
She wanted to strengthen the bond between Asha and Connie. With Connie's company, Asha might feel safer until she could adjust to her new environment.
The government had granted Priyanka a temporary leave of absence from work. The minimum was two weeks, and the maximum was 90 days, though that period could be extended if necessary.
This leave was part of a government program for children who required special care. Priyanka also had the right to free access to mental health professionals.
Although she was wary of the government, Priyanka understood that large institutions had both positive and negative aspects. With this leave, she could stay home for a while, but she still felt reluctant.
With a workaholic mindset, her maternal feelings were constantly fighting against each other. On one hand, she wanted to give Asha the attention she needed; on the other, the thought of staying away from her job for so long made her uncomfortable.
Looking at the child in her arms again, Priyanka felt a pain in her heart.
This indecisiveness was unlike her usual self. She was the kind of woman who wouldn't waste time worrying over such things.
She needed an answer right now.
For now, she shouldn't be a doctor, but a mother. The child in her arms was scared and needed someone to stay by her side.
Rehabilitating her into the real world again should be her biggest concern.
That's what her heart was telling her deep within.
Feeling the warmth in her arms and hearing the small sounds of breathing, Priyanka was sure this was the right choice.
*
'Mom is acting strange.'
Connie thought while watching her mother feed her new sister.
She remained expressionless no matter what, exactly like the protagonist of Golden Girl.
When the spoon approached her mouth, she would open and eat monotonously, as if she didn't care about what she was being fed.
She seemed like a human doll.
Connie looked at the girl curiously. Her face also seemed doll-like. There were no spots on her skin, and her eyes were unfocused.
Her eyes moved slowly over the girl's body, secretly analyzing her from head to toe. She only stopped when she noticed the clothes the girl was wearing.
She was wearing a white T-shirt and a long green skirt. The white gave her a sense of purity, and the green skirt perfectly matched her green eyes.
But what caught Connie's attention wasn't just how good she looked, but how familiar the clothes seemed.
"Aren't those my old clothes?" she asked her mother, who was still feeding Asha with focused attention.
"Asha still doesn't have her own clothes, so I used yours."
"Oh, I see…"
Connie didn't know how to feel about it.
Those clothes never seemed to look good on her, but on Asha, they seemed different. As if they were made for her.
She looked down at her plate with an empty expression. It was vegetable soup with strange-tasting vegetables.
Her meals were usually healthy but balanced with other ingredients.
Connie used to cook for herself or eat out often. Sometimes her mother didn't have time in the morning to prepare food.
The meal she was eating now was the first her mother had made for her in a long time.
Since the girl came, many things had changed.
Her parents' attitudes were different, especially her mother's.
Her mother had even stroked her head recently, something she hadn't done in ages. Her mother rarely showed physical affection, but looking at the girl in front of her, Connie started to understand.
What had made her mother kinder wasn't a change in mood but her sister's influence.
And the level of care Asha received far exceeded what Connie had ever gotten.
According to her father, her mother met the girl about two weeks ago. This meant that in just two weeks, her mother and Asha had developed a bond that Connie hadn't been able to form in ten years.
"…"
Connie's spoon rested on her plate as her eyes filled with complex emotions.
In truth, she had no appetite.
"Connie, don't play with your food," her mother said while continuing to feed Asha.
The only times she had long conversations with her mother were during moments like this.
Those conversations always revolved around her grades or whether she was eating properly.
Watching her mother feed the girl with such devotion stirred strange feelings in her heart.
She had never treated her this way.
She felt less like the biological daughter than the girl who had just entered their home.
Seeing Asha in her old clothes, and receiving such devoted care from their mother didn't help at all.
'Am I jealous?'
Connie asked herself, embarrassed.
She knew Asha was a girl in need with special conditions. From the beginning, it was clear they would be treated differently.
As for the clothes, it was inevitable. Asha didn't have her own and had been wearing a hospital gown.
How could Connie feel jealous of a pitiful girl who couldn't talk, hear, or walk?
Of course, her mother wasn't replacing her. She couldn't.
It was just the circumstances.
Connie picked up her spoon again and tried to eat.
Immediately, she grimaced as the taste of pepper hit her tongue.
Pepper was the food she hated most. She couldn't explain why; it just shouldn't exist.
"Mom, I'm not hungry. I'll eat later," she said, trying to avoid the soup as much as possible. But her mother wasn't fooled.
"Don't avoid the peppers, Connie."
"Ugh…"
Connie looked back at her soup. At first glance, it seemed like a normal vegetable soup, but after tasting the peppers, she started to imagine a strange purple aura emanating from it.
She knew she wouldn't die from eating a few peppers, but her instincts told her to avoid them.
"Peppers won't kill you, Connie. Look, your sister is eating without complaining, and she's a year younger than you."
She glanced at the girl eating the soup, her face expressionless.
How could she eat peppers without even flinching? Couldn't she taste anything?
Connie had accidentally stumbled upon the truth due to her hatred of peppers. But Asha would eat anything, good or bad.
Her mental state was so poor that she didn't care what went into her mouth.
However, seeing Asha eat something she herself couldn't filled Connie with a mix of admiration and complex feelings.
She tried again to eat her soup.
With trembling hands, she brought the spoon to her lips.
An overwhelming urge to vomit surged through her body as it rejected the peppers.
But despite this, Connie pushed through and swallowed.
After enduring the spoonful, a feeling of accomplishment washed over her.
Somehow, she had survived the challenge. She looked at her mother with a hint of expectation, but what she saw was Asha's empty plate.
She had already finished everything.
Connie looked down at her own plate, still full, with hesitant eyes.
How many more spoonfuls would she have to endure to reach the end of this nightmare?
The thought made her stomach churn.
"I'll stay here until you finish everything," her mother said while wiping Asha's mouth with a tissue.
All the life drained from Connie's eyes.
She looked at her dad, silently pleading for help.
But it was futile.
He simply turned his head as if saying "Do as your mother says."
In the end, she had only one option: to eat.
Today had been tough for her in many ways.
*
After finishing her meal, Connie immediately went to the bathroom to brush her teeth.
Just after brushing her teeth three times, she felt relieved.
It wasn't that her mother was bad at cooking. The only problem was the ingredients she used.
The food was so excessively healthy that Connie often lost her appetite.
She had never even experienced a hamburger or fries. The diet the Maheswarans followed was very restrictive.
The word "trans fat" wasn't present in their dictionary.
Because of this, Connie had never experienced many of the candies or foods that people her age enjoyed.
She could have secretly bought them with her pocket money, but she had her limits.
Hamburgers or hot dogs were at the top of her "no" list. At most, she would buy some generic sweets or breath-freshening gum.
Connie washed her face and looked in the mirror.
She had terrible eyesight; the only thing she could see was a blurred face.
But at this moment, the blur felt like an accurate reflection of her inner turmoil.
So many things had happened today that she couldn't organize her thoughts.
She couldn't ignore the feelings of jealousy she'd felt earlier.
In the novel Golden Girl, Brother Bear was a spoiled child, full of jealousy toward his new sister who had stolen his parents' attention.
He would always get into trouble to catch their attention and even mistreat the Golden Girl.
Connie knew how ugly jealousy could be, and she didn't want to become a mean girl because of it.
Maybe she was just feeling this way because she hadn't had much contact with her new sister or didn't know the full story.
"I'll talk with her."
Instead of drowning in doubts, it would be better to get to know her better. She also had a promise to her mom.
Connie put her glasses back on and walked into the living room.
Her steps were strong and determined at first, but her confidence began to wane as she approached the end of the hallway.
What she found wasn't the living room, but a pink room that hadn't existed in their house.
At least, not until yesterday.
The room was beautiful and well-designed. The bed was spacious, and all the furniture seemed new. The scent of freshly unpacked items lingered in the air.
"When?"
She asked aloud while picking up a pink teddy bear from the bed.
This should have been the guest room, but now it was transformed from the simple white space it used to be.
When had her parents found the time to design this room without her noticing?
Everything was so well-made that Connie couldn't help but touch everything.
But wasn't it a bit much for a guest room?
Would her parents invest so heavily in a room that wasn't regularly used? This room clearly belonged to someone.
And it was clear who that someone was.
Her new sister.
Connie stared at the teddy bear, her emotions swirling.
It was so different from her own gray, simple room.
"This is not fair..." she whispered, her voice trembling.
Wasn't she their biological daughter? So why did she feel like a guest in her own family?
It was as if she didn't even exist.
"Maybe it would be better if I just disappeared."
The moment the words left her mouth, Connie immediately clapped her hands over her lips.
What was she saying?
Tap!
Connie smacked her cheeks, trying to snap herself out of it.
Maybe her mother just wanted her new sister to feel comfortable here.
After all, she had gone through a lot. It was only natural for someone to show her extra care.
"Instead of standing here obsessing over this room, why not just talk to her directly?"
That had been her plan all along.
With slow steps, Connie closed the door.
She would face her fears head-on.
*
Author note
This chapter was so big that I again separated it into two chapters. Hopefully, I can finish the volume in the next chapter. Sorry for the big side POVs, I know many people want the protagonist POV again. I'll do my best to finish everything in the next.