The next two years of Reyansh Singhania’s life did not pass like time normally does. They dragged, stretched, and pulled apart into endless days where each hour felt like a slow punishment handed down by the universe. Every morning he woke to the sight of the woman he had once broken not the bright, spirited Siya who had once laughed, cried, argued, and dreamed, but a quiet, pale, silent shadow of herself.

The doctors had warned him that deep trauma does not always leave scars on the skin; sometimes it cuts so deep inside a person that they become a stranger even to themselves. Reyansh had not understood that at first. In his arrogance, he thought physical healing would bring back her spirit. He thought providing endless luxury would bring back her voice. He thought treating her with gentle hands would erase the cruelty he had carved into her life.