Nitya was no longer a guest. She had become a part of Ayansh's home and heart.
His mother treated her like a daughter, keeping oil in her hair, giving her warm food, and softly humming lullabies at night near the door. His brother called her "sherni" and always made her laugh with silly jokes and Ayansh ..... he had chnaged without even noticing it .
He cared - deeply.
Watched over her like she was fragile glass, yet respected her fire.
One evening, while sitting under the tree in the backyard, Nitya looked at Ayansh and said, "I want to learn self-defence... I want to be strong "
Ayansh didn't ask why, he just nodded, " Tomorrow, we begin. "
From the next day, mornings started with martial arts - kicks, blocks, punches. She was quick, fierce, focused.
And ayansh ?
He was falling - hard and quiet.
Evenings were filled with laughter -
Badminton in the garden, card games on floor, silly arguments over TV channels.
Nitya was healing.... without even realizing it. Not just her bruises, but her soul.
She had found a place that felt safer than anything she'd known before.
A family that loved her not because they had to - but because they chose to.
And she was finally becoming something more than a survivor.
She was becoming herself.