Prologue (Maya)

"Didi!"

A panicked voice cut through the air, sending a jolt through my spine. My head snapped in the direction of the cry, my ears ringing with desperation.

"Didi, help me, please!"

I knew that voice. It belonged to my four-year-old brother, Ansh. Just moments ago, he had run off to the left side of the playground to play with his friends. My heart pounded. Without a second thought, I grabbed a fallen stick from the ground and sprinted toward the sound.

"Didi, please help!"

His voice grew louder, more frantic. My breath hitched as I pushed forward, weaving through the playground where other children were laughing, kicking balls, and swinging high into the air. But I had no time to glance around. My only focus was reaching Ansh—before it was too late.

As I reached the spot, my breath caught in my throat.

Ansh was on the ground—a crying mess, covered in mud and water. His tiny frame trembled as he sobbed, while a group of stray dogs surrounded him, barking furiously. I scanned the area, searching for his friends, but they were nowhere to be seen. They must have run away, abandoning him in this terrifying situation.

I swallowed hard. My palms were slick with sweat as I gripped the stick tighter, the rough bark digging into my skin. I was only eight—I feared dogs too. But the sight before me was too horrifying to ignore.

There were no adults around to help us. No grown man or woman in sight. It was just me, my brother, and the snarling dogs. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but I couldn’t. Ansh needed me. I gripped the stick tighter, forcing my fear down.

I had to act. I had to save him.

I took a deep breath, planting my feet firmly on the ground. Then, with all the strength I could muster, I screamed—"ANSH!"

My voice rang out, firm and unyielding, carrying a promise that no matter what, I would protect him. That’s what elder sisters do, right?

"I will save you," I assured him, my voice steady despite the fear gnawing at my heart. "Don’t worry, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere."

Ansh looked at me with terrified eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks. But beneath that fear, I saw something else—hope. A newfound belief that no matter what, his elder sister would save him.

He was trembling, his small frame shaking as I noticed a thin scratch on his forehead. My heart clenched at the sight. He must have fallen while trying to run.

The barking of the dogs grew louder, drowning out every other sound—the chirping birds, the laughter of kids playing in the distance, the rustling leaves swayed by the breeze. Everything else faded into silence.

I took a step forward. Then another. Every step was laced with fear, but also with determination. I had to protect him.

Before I knew it, I was standing between Ansh and the snarling dogs, shielding him with my trembling body. My heart pounded so loudly it felt like the entire playground could hear it. My hands were slick with sweat, my grip on the stick tightening so much that the rough wood dug into my skin.

Still, I didn’t back down.

"Go away!" I shouted, thrusting the stick toward them. "Go away!"

The dogs bared their teeth, their growls vibrating through the air, but I refused to step back. The situation was terrifying, but I had made a promise to myself—I wouldn’t let them harm Ansh. No matter what.

The dogs’ sharp, guttural barks echoed through the empty playground, sending shivers down my spine as the dogs lunged toward me, their teeth bared, ready to bite. My heartbeat plummeted in fear, but I stood my ground.

"Ansh, go! Run away!" I screamed.

My voice trembled with terror, but desperation pushed through—I needed to save him. At least one of us had to survive for our parents.

But before the dogs could attack, a new set of voices cut through the chaos—firm, commanding, and filled with authority. I turned toward the sound and immediately recognized the figures rushing toward us.

Dad. Uncle.

A shaky breath of relief escaped my lips as I realized we were saved. The dogs yelped and scattered, fleeing into the distance.

Dad scooped Ansh into his arms, wiping away his tears. "Shh, baccha, I’m here. Don’t worry, no dog will harm you or Maya." His voice was warm with affection, yet tinged with worry.

Before I could fully process everything, Uncle pulled me into a tight hug. His grip was firm, his touch filled with concern and pride. "Well done, sweetie. You’re a strong girl—you saved your brother."

Through the lingering tears, I managed a small, trembling smile. A mix of pride for myself and deep care for Ansh settled in my chest.

Then Dad’s voice turned slightly stern. "But you should have called us instead of running into danger."

I lowered my gaze, knowing he wasn’t truly angry—just worried. He knew me too well. I had a habit of throwing myself into danger without thinking.

"I’m sorry, Papa," I murmured.

His expression softened as he patted my shoulder, a silent sign of pride. Then, to my surprise, he lifted me into his other arm, holding both Ansh and me effortlessly. I wondered how he could manage to carry two children at once—even though I wasn’t that little.

I was eight years old, after all. A big girl.

A big girl who had just saved her brother.

With that thought warming my heart, we headed home.

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