"Do you think I care about this?"

Mihira scoffed, her voice laced with mockery as she glanced down at the small bundle in her arms. The baby's tiny fists were clenched, its big eyes wide open, staring at her as though it could understand every word she said.

If only it could.

Mihira wasn't the type to feel sympathy for things she couldn't control. And this... this was definitely out of her control. She had enough on her plate without dealing with a helpless infant.

But here it was. A baby. Left on her doorstep. Wrapped in a worn-out blanket, a tiny note attached that she had already crumpled and tossed aside. No name, no details, just the baby. Her responsibility, whether she liked it or not. And she hated it.

She hated how it had forced her to stop, to think about something beyond herself-something that couldn't be bought, bartered, or ignored.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with you?" Mihira muttered, her sharp words hanging in the air, though she wasn't expecting an answer. The baby blinked up at her, oblivious to the disdain in her tone, its tiny chest rising and falling with each breath.

If she could just ignore it, she would. Toss it into the nearest orphanage and forget about it. That was the plan, anyway. After all, she wasn't in the business of playing caregiver. She had her own life to live, one that didn't revolve around diapers and bottles.

But the more she tried to push it away, the more it seemed to worm its way into her consciousness. This damn thing, this... responsibility, was becoming a problem.

She shook her head, trying to dismiss the nagging voice in the back of her mind. "I didn't ask for this."

Mihira had always believed in one simple truth: People were unreliable. Relationships were a waste of time. Money-money was the only thing that mattered. It was the one thing that wouldn't disappoint her, wouldn't let her down when she needed it the most. And it was the one thing she could rely on to keep the world at arm's length, to make sure she never needed to depend on anyone else.

Her mother's struggles had been a constant reminder of that fact. Gayatri had sacrificed everything for love, for family-and where had it gotten her? Alone, rejected by her own people, struggling to survive on her own. Mihira had no intentions of following in her footsteps. She was smarter than that. She had learned from her mother's mistakes, and she refused to be swept up in the mess of family ties and emotional attachments.

But this baby, this helpless creature, was a curveball she didn't see coming.

A sigh escaped her lips as she shifted the weight of the baby in her arms. She didn't even know how to hold it properly, and the awkwardness of the situation only added to her frustration. The baby let out a small whimper, and for a fleeting moment, Mihira's eyes softened. She didn't want to care. She couldn't care. She wouldn't let herself.

But somewhere deep inside her, something began to stir. She wasn't the kind of person who liked to feel-anything. Feelings were dangerous. But here, in this moment, there was something more than just obligation tugging at her. Something she didn't quite understand yet.

The world wasn't kind to people like Mihira-those who chose to live on their own terms, who refused to let anyone dictate their lives. She had seen enough to know that everything and everyone could disappoint you. So, she shut herself off, one sarcastic remark at a time, keeping her heart locked away like the vault of a bank.

But this? This was different. She didn't know how or why, but it was different. The baby wasn't asking for anything except to be taken care of, and in that moment, Mihira wasn't sure if she was capable of doing anything but pushing it away. Yet, she couldn't. Not just yet.

She stared down at the tiny face that seemed to stare right back, its gaze unwavering, unblinking, as if it could see past her sarcasm and her indifference.

"This is a mess," Mihira muttered under her breath, her words filled with a bitter resignation. "But if you think I'm going to let you ruin my life, little one... you're wrong."

And yet, as she spoke, something flickered inside her-a distant, barely perceptible shift in her hardened resolve. Something that told her this mess, this inconvenient, frustrating mess, might just end up changing her in ways she hadn't prepared for.

She wasn't ready for it. She wasn't prepared to care. But somehow, she had to. She was about to learn that even the most independent, guarded soul couldn't shut out the world forever. And maybe-just maybe-she could find a way to make this work.

Or maybe, it would break her.

But for now, Mihira wasn't about to make any promises. She'd figure it out. She always did.

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