It was five in the morning.
The house was still asleep, but Ananya was already awake.
The soft flame of the stove, the sound of boiling milk, the clink of utensils—
this was how her day always began.
She looked at herself in the mirror .
No tears. No complaints.
Just one habit—being quiet.
Everyone at home said,
"Ananya is very understanding."
But no one ever asked
how tired she was of understanding everything.
Her father's treatment,
her mother's medicines,
her younger brother's studies,
and her own life—
all rested on her shoulders.
When marriage proposals came, people said,
"She's a good girl.
She doesn't ask too many questions."
She knew how to smile,
but not too loudly.
She knew how to cry,
but only when she was alone.
That morning, she left for work silently, as usual.
While waiting at the bus stop, she checked her phone.
A message flashed on the screen:
"You are a girl… why do you carry so much weight alone?"
Her fingers trembled.
No one had ever asked her that before.
She took a deep breath.
Maybe…
this was the beginning of her silence breaking.
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