Mira's jealousy didn't erupt—it grew, quiet and poisonous.
At first, it was small things.
Whenever Ela's mother brought home a new dress or a fresh pair of sandals for Ela, Mira's eyes would linger a second too long. Not openly angry—just tight, calculating, like she was filing the moment away.
And then came the sweetness.
Mira spoke like honey poured on everything—
"Oh, Ma'am, you cook better than anyone."
"Sir, how do you manage everything so well?"
"Ela is so lucky to have parents like you."
Flattery so soft it sounded harmless.
But it worked.
Within weeks, the atmosphere in the house shifted.
The next time her mother went shopping, Mira returned with new bangles, a bright shawl, a kurta Ela had once pointed out for herself—all "gifts" from Ela's mother, bought with the same easy affection Ela used to receive.
Ela stood silently in the doorway, watching Mira twirl in front of the mirror, her new clothes swishing around her ankles.
Something broke quietly inside her.
She had never felt unloved before.
Never doubted her place in her own home.
But now…
Now she noticed how her mother's voice sharpened when speaking to her, how little patience she had for Ela's smallest mistakes. And every time Ela was scolded—every single time—Mira would stand nearby, lips twitching, laughter caught behind them.
Not enough to be heard.
But enough for Ela to feel it.
Enough to make her shrink.
The worst blow came the night of the family dinner.
Ela walked in, ready to sit in her usual place—beside her mother—only to find Mira already sitting there, smiling sweetly, comfortably, as if she had always belonged.
Her mother didn't even look up.
"Ela, sit on the other side."
The chill that struck Ela was unlike anything she had felt before.
Mira glanced at her—an innocent smile on her lips, but her eyes gleaming with triumph only Ela could see.
She knew exactly what she was doing.
Every word, every act of kindness toward Ela's parents, every cruel whisper aimed at Ela, every moment of laughter at her pain—it was all deliberate.
Mira was carving out a place in this house.
And she was pushing Ela out of it…
piece by piece,
smile by smile,
lie by lie.