Chapter 3 Little Wins

She had no voice in the house... but outside those walls, she was becoming unstoppable.

At school, Anaya was different.

Teachers loved her discipline.

Her math was flawless. Her essays, deep and mature.

Even the strict principal once said,

"If I had a daughter like you... I'd be the proudest father alive."

But at home, her report cards were barely noticed.

Mrs. Mehra would just glance and say,

"Oh, okay. Good."

And toss them on the console table.

One day, Anaya entered a district writing competition.

She didn't tell anyone - not even Rina.

She poured her heart into a short story about a little bird trying to fly with broken wings.

Weeks later, her name was called at assembly.

First place.

The auditorium clapped. Her classmates cheered.

She went home with a shiny medal, heart bursting with pride.

But when she showed Rina, the girl laughed and said,

"Only losers brag about writing stories. No one cares about your sad bird."

Anaya placed the medal gently in her drawer, under her uniform.

She didn't argue. She never did.

But later that night, the cook found her outside by the garden swing, humming softly and sketching with a broken pencil.

"What are you drawing?" he asked.

She smiled.

"A house where I'm not invisible."

💔 She didn't want riches.

She didn't want toys.

She just wanted someone... to see her.

To be continued...

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