Life, after all, was about survival. One day at a time.
Anaya Deshmukh had always considered herself someone who could adapt. She was patient, indifferent to trivial matters, and had long since learned to numb herself to disappointments.
When she woke up in this new world, she didn't rush outside. Instead, she stayed in the bed from morning until noon, listening to the faint murmurs of conversation and the bustling of the household. It wasn't laziness—it was observation.
Then, suddenly, the rich aroma of chicken soup filled the air.
Her stomach growled.
Damn. That smells divine.
The kind of rich, nourishing scent that wrapped around a person like a warm embrace, reminding her that no matter how cruel the world was, food remained a comfort.
Just as she was fantasizing about a warm meal, the door creaked open, and her mother—no, the original Anaya Deshmukh's biological mother—Seema Verma, entered.
"Anaya, you're awake? Come eat. I made chicken soup."
"Okay." Anaya Deshmukh's lips curved into a faint smile. She was no fool. If they were offering food, she would take it. If they underestimated her, she would let them—for now.
She climbed out of bed, glancing at her patched-up, gray-blue outfit. It was rough, the fabric worn from years of mending.
She sneered inwardly.
The real Anaya Deshmukh had grown up in hardship, despite living as a 'wealthy heiress' for a time. Meanwhile, Rani—the so-called "true daughter"—had basked in the affection of this family, wearing the best clothes, eating the best food, while the rightful daughter starved.
Rani had left, but her belongings remained. The original Anaya Deshmukh had refused to wear them. And now, so would she.
With that thought, she straightened her back and stepped outside.
As she entered the main room, she caught part of an ongoing conversation.
"Ma, give me that chicken leg too," her eldest brother, Rajesh Deshmukh, whined. "If I bring it to Sunita, she might finally agree to date me."
Anaya Deshmukh barely held back an eye roll and stopping herself from scoffing.
Is this guy an idiot?
["Rajesh Deshmukh, do you even have a brain? Has he never heard that being a lovesick fool leads to nothing? Sunita Reddy is just using you for free food and labor, making him run errands and shower her with gifts. She's playing the delicate damsel, but in reality, she's got her eyes on Ashok Kumar. You? You're nothing more than a convenient provider."]
The moment the thought crossed her mind, Rajesh Deshmukh suddenly froze, his chopsticks hovering mid-air.
His expression darkened and his head snapped up, eyes darting around in suspicion. "Who said that?!"
Anaya Deshmukh froze. She hadn't said a word. Those thoughts had only been in her head.
Wait. He… heard that?
Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn't spoken aloud. She was sure of it.
Rajesh's sharp gaze swept over the room before landing on her.
Yet, Rajesh was glaring at her. His brows furrowed, his grip tightening around his chopsticks.
Their father, Anil Deshmukh, looked up from his meal with an unimpressed expression. "What nonsense are you spouting, Rajesh? No one said anything."
Rajesh hesitated, his father wasn't the type to lie, but he could've sworn he'd heard a voice.
He clenched his jaw. Had he imagined it?
Still, shaking his head, he turned back to the food. "Mom, let me take the chicken leg myself."
Anaya Deshmukh sat down and her eyes followed the movement as he grabbed the largest piece of meat and plopped it into his bowl. The chicken leg in Rajesh's bowl. That looked delicious.
The soup smelled even better up close. The golden broth shimmered, filled with tender pieces of chicken, rich with the essence of slow cooking.
She suddenly realized just how hungry she was.
["That chicken leg looks really good. This soup smells amazing. No wonder my mother's cooking is famous. But why waste it on some woman who doesn't even like you?"]
[Rajesh Deshmukh, if you're just going to waste that chicken leg on some ungrateful woman, why not give it to your own sister instead? That Reddy girl is only stringing you along. The moment you give her that chicken, she'll probably hand it over to that fancy scholar she actually likes.]
At that moment, both Seema Verma and Rajesh Deshmukh stiffened.
Seema's brows furrowed in confusion. She had heard something. Just a second ago. A voice. But no one had spoken.
She turned toward Anaya Deshmukh, she had clearly heard her daughter complimenting her cooking. But… Anaya hadn't spoken
Was it...her?
Meanwhile, Rajesh Deshmukh's grip tightened on his chopsticks. He was staring at Anaya Deshmukh, stunned.
What the hell was that?! He had heard her. It was her voice, but she hadn't moved her lips. Was he hearing things?
A shiver ran down his spine as realization struck.
He was hearing her thoughts.
And what she had just said…
"That's nonsense," he suddenly snapped, glaring at her. "Sunita is a good person. She wouldn't be like that!"
Anaya Deshmukh only blinked at him, feigning innocence, but inside, she smirked.
Still, a trace of doubt crept into his mind.
Was Sunita Reddy really playing him? No. She couldn't be. He shook his head and quickly grabbed the bowl. "I don't care what anyone says. I'm taking this to her."
He rushed out of the room before he could hear anything else.
Anaya Deshmukh smirked, her thoughts turning darker.
[Denial is a powerful thing. But just wait, Rajesh Deshmukh. Tonight, at seven, that same Sun girl will be meeting Arvind Rajput in the backwoods, exchanging sweet words over a plate of peach pastries. She'll let him kiss her, all while keeping you on standby, ready to serve her like a fool.
Rajesh Deshmukh paused mid-step. What did she just say?
Arvind Rajput?
That good-for-nothing troublemaker from the village? The one always getting into fights?
His heart pounded.
That couldn't be true. Sunita Reddy was innocent. She liked him, not those other men.
…Right?
"Aren't you eating first?" Seema Verma asked.
"No time. Sunita Reddy must be hungry by now."
As he rushed out, Anaya Deshmukh sighed.
[There he goes. Off to feed someone who wouldn't spit on him if he were on fire.]
At the doorway, Rajesh Deshmukh let out a scoff. "What nonsense is that? You're just making things up!"
But despite his words, a seed of doubt had been planted in his mind.
Anaya Deshmukh watched him go and leaned back, exhaling in satisfaction. Interesting.
_____________________________________
The Deshmukh Family's house was one of the few brick homes in the village. Though modest, it was sturdy and newer than many others.
The central room served as the main hall, flanked by two wings. The east wing housed Anil Deshmukh and Seema Verma in the larger room, while the smaller one belonged to Kavita Deshmukh, the eldest daughter.
The west wing had two rooms—one for Rajesh Deshmukh and Vikram Deshmukh. The second, which used to belong to Rani, had now been given to Anaya Deshmukh.
A stolen identity. A stolen family. A stolen life.
Rani had taken everything from her.
But fate had given her a second chance. And this time…
She wasn't just going to take back what was hers—she was going to make them regret ever thinking they could replace her.
For now, she would play the role of the weak, unwanted daughter. She would let them underestimate her.
But make no mistake—this world had taken everything from her.
And she?
She would take it all back. With interest. They wanted a meek, forgotten daughter. She would let them believe that. But soon… they'd realize just how wrong they were."
(End of the Chapter)