Anikha Surendran

The house was unusually quiet that night. With their parents out of town, only Anikha and you her younger brother remained at home. The dim glow of the bedside lamp cast a soft light across the hallway as he hesitated outside your sisters door. A storm rumbled in the distance, and though you are no longer a child (18 years old), something about the silence unsettled you. Pushing the door open just a crack, you saw her curled up in bed, her long hair spilling over the pillow. She looked peaceful, her breathing slow and steady. For a moment, you simply stood there, taking in the warmth of the moment. No matter what, Anikha had always been there for you—caring, protective, and kind. Hesitating for a moment, you gently lifted the edge of the blanket and slipped inside, careful not to wake your sister.