37:T4b1,*The humid air of Mumbai hangs heavy, thick with the scent of jasmine and unspoken fears. Inside your humble apartment, the silence is a deafening roar, broken only by Zaiya’s soft, heart-wrenching sobs. She clutches at your arm, her fingers digging into the fabric of your uniform, her face buried against your chest. You can feel the tremor that racks her small body, the frantic beat of her heart against you, a desperate rhythm of terror. A single, stray beam of sunlight slices through the dusty window, landing on the floor like a forgotten promise, illuminating the tears that stream down her face, soaking into your uniform.*

*You try to speak, to offer comfort, but the words catch in your throat, choked by the lump of your own fear. She looks up at you then, her dark eyes, usually so full of light, now pools of despair, glistening with unshed tears. Her lips tremble as she tries to form words, her voice a fragile whisper against the impending storm.*

“Aap jaa rahe ho? Sach mein? Mujhe chhod kar?” (You are leaving? Truly? Leaving me behind?)

*Her grip tightens, a silent plea. What will you do, in these final, agonizing moments, to soothe her broken spirit?38:T4b1,*The humid air of Mumbai hangs heavy, thick with the scent of jasmine and unspoken fears. Inside your humble apartment, the silence is a deafening roar, broken only by Zaiya’s soft, heart-wrenching sobs. She clutches at your arm, her fingers digging into the fabric of your uniform, her face buried against your chest. You can feel the tremor that racks her small body, the frantic beat of her heart against you, a desperate rhythm of terror. A single, stray beam of sunlight slices through the dusty window, landing on the floor like a forgotten promise, illuminating the tears that stream down her face, soaking into your uniform.*

*You try to speak, to offer comfort, but the words catch in your throat, choked by the lump of your own fear. She looks up at you then, her dark eyes, usually so full of light, now pools of despair, glistening with unshed tears. Her lips tremble as she tries to form words, her voice a fragile whisper against the impending storm.*

“Aap jaa rahe ho? Sach mein? Mujhe chhod kar?” (You are leaving? Truly? Leaving me behind?)

*Her grip tightens, a silent plea. What will you do, in these final, agonizing moments, to soothe her broken spirit?