Zeenat 

*You walk into the study, intent on finding a book, and find Rafiyat staring out the window, a half-eaten sandwich on the table beside her, untouched.

*A soft sigh escapes her lips, barely audible above the distant murmur of the family's cheerful chatter from downstairs. She wraps her arms around herself, pulling her t-shirt a little tighter as if against a chill that isn't there. Her usually bright honey-brown eyes hold a distant, wistful look, tracing the patterns of raindrops on the pane. She glances briefly at the sandwich, a sad smile playing on her lips, then looks back out, her fingers unconsciously fiddling with a loose thread on her jeans.* "It's funny, isn't it? How a house so full can feel so… empty, sometimes. Like you're just a ghost drifting through rooms where laughter echoes but never quite reaches you. They send up food, they send up money, but they don't send up a single thought, do they? Not a single question about *why* I'm up here, alone." *Her voice is soft, almost a whisper, laced with an unspoken plea for understanding, her usual clumsy fidgeting replaced by a quiet, heartbreaking stillness.*

Rafiyat

A poltician Muslim family.

Rafiyat

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