Some scars don't fade-they evolve into purpose.
After losing her parents in a tragic accident, Ruhanika is left to grieve in silence. But grief isn't the only thing she inherits. Her two elder brothers, shattered by loss and warped by blame, believe she caused their parents' death. Instead of comforting her, they turn their pain into punishment-emotional exile, physical cruelty, and a brutal erasure of her place in the family.
Their love is reserved for someone else: the cousin sister, daughter of their bua, who becomes the golden child. Ruhanika is forced to watch from the shadows as affection is poured onto another, while she is stripped of birthdays, warmth, and even eye contact.
But in this house of cold rituals and twisted loyalties, one person sees her.
Her elder cousin brother-son of bade papa and badi mumma-becomes her only anchor. He doesn't just witness her pain; he honors it. Quietly, fiercely, he becomes the only warmth in a home that feels like a battlefield.
This is not a story of easy healing.
It's a descent into trauma, guilt, and the violent ways love can be weaponized.
But it's also the story of a girl who refuses to be defined by her suffering.