The words landed like a bomb, shattering the fragile hope Raneya had clung to.
Her dreams—once burning so brightly within her—now flickered in the suffocating wind of betrayal. The fire she had nurtured through sleepless nights and endless sacrifices was being doused by the people who were supposed to protect her. Her urge of carving out an independent future for herself was slipping away, piece by piece, into the hands of a family she didn't recognize.
Her father stood silent for a moment, then gave a slow, resolute nod. "It's time to think about what's best for you," he said quietly, his voice heavy with finality. "And this... this is a good opportunity."
Raneya couldn't breathe.
Each word felt like a nail driven into the coffin of her dreams.
Raneya stood there, her chest tightening. She could feel the walls closing in, the dream she had worked so hard for slipping further and further away. She wanted to scream, to fight back, to tell them that they were ruining everything. But instead, she clenched her fists and took a deep breath."I can't," she whispered in a hoarse voice barely able to form the syllables. "I can't do this. Please, I want to live my dream. I want to be more than just someone's wife."
Her father's expression hardened, his patience thinning. "Enough, Raneya," he snapped. "This isn't a debate. You will do as you're told."
In the corner of the room, Aanya's smirk returned—cold, pleased, venomous. "See, Ma? She's still talking back. Still trying to run from us. She thinks she's better than us."
The matchstick caught flame.
"You're rebelling against us!" Fazeela exploded, her voice echoing through the walls like a thunderclap. "How dare you turn your back on everything we've given you? All we've done for you—and this is how you repay us? You're bringing shame on this family, Raneya! You ungrateful girl!"
Shame.
That word always lingered like smoke in their household. It clouded every decision, every choice, every hope. And now it was being hurled at her like a weapon.
But Raneya stood tall, shaking with rage and despair. Her eyes, though brimming with tears, burned with defiance.
"I will not live your life," she said through gritted teeth, her voice breaking as she clung to the last remnants of her resolve.. "I will not let your fears and your narrow thinking define me. I will not be a prisoner just because you never dared to dream."
A beat of silence.
And then it came.
The sharp, thunderous crack of skin on skin.
Raneya's world tilted as her father's hand collided with her cheek, the impact sending her reeling. The sting bloomed instantly across her face, but the true pain lay deeper—in the betrayal. In the realization that even he, her soft-spoken father, had chosen silence over support. Control over compassion.
Fazeela gasped. Even Aanya flinched.
But Qureshi Sahab didn't waver. His voice dropped to a deadly quiet. "You will marry this man," he said, eyes like stone. "And you will never speak of this again."
The room spun as Raneya staggered back, clutching her face, her heart shattering into a million pieces. Her chest rose and fell, each breath jagged and burning. She felt like she was drowning in a sea of invisible chains.
Then—cold hands gripped her arm with an ironclad strength. Her father dragged her through the hallway, past Aanya's satisfied smirk and her mother's teary scorn, down to her room. She struggled, but he was stronger—driven by duty, by ego, by fear of what people would say.
The door slammed behind her with a finality that made her knees buckle.
Click.
The lock turned.
She was alone.
Locked away like a secret. Like shame.
The rest of the night passed in agonizing silence. Raneya slid to the floor, her body trembling. Her cheek throbbed, but her soul screamed louder. She crawled to the bed, curled up like a wounded animal, and let the sobs take her.
No one came.
No one asked if she was okay.
The house outside buzzed with whispers and plans—calls to the groom's family, discussions of tea sets and outfits, fake laughter floating through the cracks.
They were building her cage while she wept inside it.