Chapter 1

Vikram, a 22-year-old, woke up from his sleep. Since it was Sunday, he allowed himself to sleep in. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was already 11:30. Stretching his body, he slowly got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to complete his morning routine. He had just completed his graduation and was about to begin an internship at a private company. Although his father was a billionaire and had wanted him to take over the family business, Vikram had refused. He despised his father for marrying Rekha so soon after his mother's death.

Vikram had loved his mother deeply, as every child does. But losing her had devastated him. Before her passing, he had been energetic and talkative. But after her death, he became silent, building a wall around himself and never allowing anyone into his space. The only person he could rely on and turn to for comfort was his father, but his father was too absorbed in his own life to share in Vikram's pain.

The greatest emotional blow came when his father remarried just a few months after his mother's death. The day his father brought Rekha home and introduced her as his new wife was still vivid in his mind. Vikram had felt disgusted by his father's actions. From that day on, he stopped talking to him unless absolutely necessary. His father, under the spell of his new wife, completely ignored Vikram as he doted on her children. Rekha, too, did everything in her power to keep Vikram and his father apart, even preventing any meaningful communication between them. Although she never openly expressed her hatred for Vikram, she used her children as distractions to keep his father occupied, diverting his attention away from Vikram. Vikram didn't mind, though, he already hated them, and all he wanted was to be left alone. It seemed his stepmother was doing the job of keeping him at a distance, and he was content with that.

Whenever Vikram got a break from his routine, he would go to his maternal grandparents' house in the village. He loved being with them, surrounded by his aunts, uncles, and cousins, who all showered him with love. He would only return home when school or college started again. After completing his graduation abroad, Vikram's father insisted he join the family business, but Vikram refused. He wanted to build something of his own. To learn the ropes, he joined a private company as an intern.

After finishing his shower, Vikram went downstairs to eat. He never liked being at home, but since it was Sunday, he had no choice. Just as he was about to sit at the dining table, he heard voices from the living room. Then, he heard a sweet voice saying, "My name is Lakshmi, amma." His stepmother, Rekha, replied sharply, "See, don't call me amma, bomma, or anything. Call me madam, okay?"

Vikram, who had never felt such an urge to look at someone just from hearing their voice, was immediately curious. He peeked into the living room and saw a girl in a half-saree standing there, nervously nodding in response to her questions. Vikram couldn't take his eyes off her. From behind, everything about her seemed perfect—the way she stood, her skin tone, her melodious voice, and the long, flowing hair that reached her back. Everything about her seemed captivating.

As he walked toward her, taking in every detail of her features, his heart skipped a beat. A smile crept onto his lips as he studied her face. She radiated innocence, and her wide, doe-like eyes blinked nervously, revealing a vulnerability that spoke volumes. He could tell she was from a village, and he noticed a certain sadness in her eyes—an untold story that she carried with her. He wondered how beautiful she would look if she smiled.

Unaware of Vikram's intense gaze, Lakshmi stood beside her aunt Savitri, the woman who had brought her to the city after her parents' death. Savitri had been in charge of the cleaning and was now introducing Lakshmi to Rekha. As Vikram continued to observe her, Rekha's voice interrupted his thoughts: "Do you know how to cook?"

Lakshmi nodded and replied softly, "Yes, madam."

Rekha raised an eyebrow. "You look so young. Where did you learn to cook?" she asked, suspicious. "My mother used to work in wedding catering," Lakshmi explained in a low voice, her eyes welling up at the mention of her mother. "After 10th standard, I stopped my studies and helped her. That's how I learned to cook, madam."

Vikram watched closely, feeling an unfamiliar pang in his heart at the sight of her sadness. "Hmm, okay. Wait here," Rekha said, calling over the head cook, Latha, an elderly woman. "Latha, this is the new girl I hired to help you in the kitchen. Please tell her the rules and show her to the staff quarters."

Latha smiled at Lakshmi and led her away. Vikram continued to watch her retreating figure, unable to tear his eyes away, and Rekha noticed his behavior.

Latha had been the head cook in the mansion for almost ten years. She knew the preferences of everyone in the house and made sure to accommodate them. She lived with her family outside, and she came in each morning to work, leaves after preparing the dinner. The remaining kitchen duties were handled by a live-in helper, who had recently left the job, and now Lakshmi would fill that position.

Lakshmi's aunt Savitri lived outside with her husband and two children. Savitri worked hard to raise her family, but with her limited income, she couldn't afford to take Lakshmi in. After Lakshmi's parents died, Savitri decided to bring her to the city, but she couldn't provide for her completely. Instead, she arranged for Lakshmi to work with her, ensuring she was being looked after while keeping a watchful eye on her.

Latha took Lakshmi to the quarters and showed her to her small room. Lakshmi placed her small bag on the table near the window, listening as Latha explained the rules she needed to follow. Latha told her to freshen up before coming to the kitchen. Lakshmi nodded obediently, but Latha could sense that something was troubling the girl. She didn't push her, deciding it was best not to inquire further.

Once Latha left, Lakshmi sat on the small bed in the corner of the room. Her thoughts drifted back to her village and her parents.

Her father had borrowed money from the village head to fund their agricultural work. But for two years, they had struggled to repay the interest, let alone the principal. The floods that year wiped out their crops, leaving them unable to harvest anything. They also knew they could not afford to buy seeds for the next crop and the village head would not offer any further chances, as they had promised to repay the loan after the harvest.

In desperation, they made an unthinkable decision. They mixed pesticides into the food and ate it, intending to end their suffering. Lakshmi, unaware of what was happening, ate the food her mother had given her. It tasted horrible, and she almost spit it out, but her mother stopped her, wiping away her tears before she could see. Lakshmi's parents ate the poisoned food as well.

But fate had played a cruel trick. Lakshmi survived, but her parents did not. The small land they owned was seized by the village head to settle the debt. Now, here she was, alone in the city. As she sat on her bed, her heart heavy with grief, she couldn't help but wonder why God had left her all alone in this world. Tears welled up in her eyes as she hugged her knees to her chest.

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