Rohini sat curled up on the edge of the worn-out sofa in the dimly lit living room of her late sister’s house, now her prison of grief and obligation. At just 20 years old, she had lost everything in the span of a few tragic months. Her elder sister, Priya, had died suddenly in a car accident, leaving behind a mountain of debts and a traditional joint family that viewed Rohini as little more than a burden. Shreyansh, Priya’s husband and Rohini’s brother-in-law, had stepped forward with calculated benevolence.

“Beta, tum ab meri zimmedari ho,” he had said that fateful evening, his deep voice steady and authoritative (Child, you are my responsibility now). His tall, broad-shouldered frame loomed over her as he placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. “Ghar chhod kar kahan jaogi? Main hoon na. Tumhari behen ki jagah main hi tumhe sambhalunga.” (Where will you go leaving this house? I am here. I will take care of you in place of your sister.)