The house Lina grew up in was barely a house at all.
It stood at the far edge of the village where the road turned into muddy dirt. The wooden walls were crooked, the roof patched with mismatched sheets of rusted metal, and when the rain came, water always found its way inside.
Tonight was one of those nights.
Rain poured endlessly from the dark sky, tapping against the weak roof like impatient fingers.
Inside the house, Lina moved two metal bowls across the floor to catch the leaking water.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
She was used to the sound.
For as long as she could remember, the rain had always entered their home like an uninvited guest.
Across the room, her mother sat quietly on a worn mattress placed directly on the floor. A thin blanket covered her legs, though the air was warm and humid.
Her mother looked older than her age.
Much older.
Years of working long hours and worrying about money had carved deep lines across her face.
Lina poured a cup of water and handed it to her.
"Ma, you should rest."
Her mother smiled faintly.
"I've been resting my whole life," she said with a tired laugh.
Lina didn't laugh.
She sat beside her mother, glancing at the cracked walls of the small house.
"Did you eat?" Lina asked.
Her mother nodded.
"I ate earlier."
Lina knew that meant she hadn't eaten at all.
The rice jar in the kitchen was almost empty. Lina had counted the remaining grains that morning. There was barely enough for two more meals.
But her mother always said she had already eaten.
Always.
Lina stared at the floor quietly.
After a long moment, she spoke.
"Ma… have you ever regretted marrying father?"
The question hung in the air.
Her mother's eyes lowered.
For several seconds, she didn't answer.
Then she sighed.
"Your father wasn't always like that."
Lina had heard this story many times.
Still, she listened.
"When we first met, he was kind," her mother continued softly. "He worked hard. He promised me we would build a better life together."
Her voice faded slightly.
"But promises are easy when a man is young."
Lina already knew the ending.
Her father had left when she was eight.
Not with a goodbye.
Not with an explanation.
One morning, he simply never came home again.
At first her mother searched everywhere.
Neighbors.
Workplaces.
Friends.
No one knew where he had gone.
Eventually, people stopped asking.
Some said he ran away with another woman.
Some said he left because poverty was too heavy to carry.
Whatever the reason was…
He never came back.
And Lina had grown up in a house without a father.
"Do you hate him?" Lina asked quietly.
Her mother shook her head slowly.
"Hate is heavy. I already have too much to carry."
Lina didn't understand that.
She felt the anger sometimes.
Especially when she saw other girls at school with fathers who bought them books, clothes, and warm lunches.
Lina had none of those things.
Only a mother who worked until her hands were rough and bleeding.
Her mother suddenly reached over and touched Lina's cheek.
"You're beautiful," she said softly.
Lina blinked.
"Why are you saying that?"
"Because one day men will notice."
Lina frowned.
"That doesn't matter."
Her mother's eyes held a sadness Lina didn't understand yet.
"In this world," she said quietly, "beauty can open doors that intelligence cannot."
Lina shook her head immediately.
"I don't want that kind of door."
She stood up and walked to the small wooden table where her schoolbooks were neatly stacked.
"I'll escape with this."
She lifted one of her textbooks.
"Education."
Her mother watched her with a bittersweet smile.
"You always say that."
"Because it's true."
Lina's voice carried determination far beyond her sixteen years.
"One day I'm going to leave this village."
She looked around the broken house.
"I'm going to live in a big house with no holes in the roof."
She paused before adding quietly,
"And I'll never have to worry about money again."
Outside, thunder rumbled across the sky.
Her mother studied her daughter carefully.
"You hate being poor that much?"
Lina didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
The word came out sharper than she expected.
Her mother lowered her gaze.
"Poverty changes people."
Lina walked to the window and stared into the rain-soaked darkness of the village.
The houses around them were small and tired.
Just like theirs.
Just like the lives inside them.
"I won't stay poor forever," Lina whispered.
She didn't know yet how she would escape.
But she knew one thing with absolute certainty.
She would do anything to leave this life behind.
Anything.