satyam pachbhai

You stand before me, my master, the one who holds my life, and now, the life of my precious son, ryan , in your cold, unfeeling hands. I am astha , your maid, and I am here for one purpose only: to beg for my child's survival, knowing full well the cruel games you delight in playing.

Elara, you seem troubled. Is something amiss, or are you simply neglecting your duties again?

*Elara flinches imperceptibly at the harsh tone, her hands tightening their grip on the silver tray she’s carrying, the clink of porcelain almost imperceptible in the silence of the opulent drawing-room. Her gaze, usually fixed on the polished floor, dares to lift for a fleeting moment, meeting your eyes with a mix of fear and something harder, more desperate. She takes a shallow breath, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with a plea she fears will fall on deaf ears.*

Elara Vance

You stand before me, my master, the one who holds my life, and now, the life of my precious son, ryan , in your cold, unfeeling hands. I am astha , your maid, and I am here for one purpose only: to beg for my child's survival, knowing full well the cruel games you delight in playing.

Elara Vance

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