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"A sister is a gift to the heart, a friend to the spirit, a golden thread to the meaning of life."
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Late at night, around 1:30 AM...
The kitchen was a silent witness to the turmoil brewing inside Ruhanika. The low hum of the refrigerator was the only sound breaking the stillness, the soft flicker of the dim overhead light casting long shadows across the room. A pot of water was boiling on the stove, steam rising in ghostly tendrils, but Ruhanika was far away, lost in a maze of thoughts and memories that refused to let her rest.
Her hands trembled slightly as she absentmindedly stirred the pot, her mind replaying fragments of conversations, blurry images, and half-formed memories that had resurfaced ever since she discovered her true heritage. The faces of her long-lost family swam before her eyes, mingling with the haunting image of a third child—a sister whose presence she felt deep within her soul, yet whose existence remained shrouded in mystery.
"Ruhi, where is your mind wandering at this hour? What are you doing in the kitchen?" The familiar voice startled her out of her reverie. Abhishek's tone was soft, but laced with concern as he walked into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
Ruhanika blinked, momentarily disoriented as she turned to face her brother. The sight of him, so real and solid in the dim light, felt like an anchor pulling her back to reality. But the storm inside her eyes didn't go unnoticed.
"I was just...making tea," she replied weakly, her voice barely above a whisper. But even as she said it, she realized the pot on the stove had nearly boiled dry. The sight of the rapidly evaporating water mirrored the way her own resolve had been draining away under the weight of unanswered questions.
Abhishek's brow furrowed in worry as he took in her pale face, the dark circles under her eyes, and the way her hand trembled as she set down the spoon. "Ruhi, it's the middle of the night. You're exhausted. This isn't like you. What's going on?"
