Chapter No 2
Thrown Aside
The memory of her birth faded into the fog of infancy, but its consequences shaped every moment of Lina's early life.
By the time she was two, she had already learned the quiet ways of surviving in a house that did not want her.
Her father rarely looked at her. When he did, it was with the same expression he gave to broken furniture or muddy shoes. Her mother — once gentle — had grown cold, exhaustion carving shadows into her face. She moved through the house like a ghost, barely aware of the small child watching her with hopeful eyes.
Only Marla noticed every little thing.
Lina's unsteady footsteps.Her first attempts at words.The way she clung to the edges of doors, peeking out with silent curiosity.
She should have been cherished.Instead, she was a reminder of her parents' disappointment.
The Morning It Happened
One cold morning, the house was unusually loud. Her mother was shouting, drawers slamming, the father pacing with restless anger.
"Where is my son's clean shirt?" he roared. "We told you to wash his clothes last night!"
Marla bowed her head. "I did, sir. They were drying by the fire—"
"Well, they're not dry!" he snapped. "That girl must've touched something again."
At the word girl, his eyes turned to Lina.
She sat on the floor, holding the corner of her worn blanket, watching them without understanding — only sensing the tension that made her chest tighten.
Her father approached her, his heavy steps shaking the wooden floor. Without warning, he grabbed her little arm and lifted her off the ground.
"Useless thing," he muttered.
Startled, Lina whimpered.
Marla moved quickly. "Sir, please—she's only a child—"
"Exactly," he said. "A child we never needed."
He carried Lina toward the bedroom, where the ancient wooden bed towered like a mountain to her tiny eyes. Before Marla could reach them, he dropped the little girl onto the mattress — not gently, not carefully — but like something being discarded.
Lina's body bounced and rolled. She let out a sharp cry of pain, her breath catching in her throat. For a moment, she didn't even know how to breathe. Tears blurred her vision as she crawled toward the edge of the bed, reaching for anyone — anyone — who might help her.
But the man had already turned his back.
He didn't even look.
The Cry That Broke a Heart
Marla rushed forward.
"Lina!" she whispered, scooping the trembling child into her arms. Lina pressed her face against Marla's shoulder, sobbing in tiny gasps. Her small hands clutched desperately at the maid's apron.
"She's just a baby," Marla said sharply, her voice shaking with anger she rarely showed. "She deserves gentleness."
The father snorted. "You care too much. She won't be here forever. Girls leave eventually — or become burdens."
Marla held the child closer. "Not this one," she murmured fiercely. "Not if I can help it."
But neither woman nor child knew then how deep the father's resentment ran.
The Pattern of Neglect
As days passed, the scene repeated in different shapes:
Lina reaching for her mother, only to be pushed aside.
Her father stepping around her as though she were a stray animal.
Meals forgotten if Marla wasn't there to feed her.
Toys not allowed because "the boy should have them."
Lina learned to make herself small — silent — almost invisible.
Yet she never gave up entirely.
Whenever her mother sat alone at the table, eyes tired and distant, Lina would crawl over and place her tiny hand on the woman's knee. It was a simple gesture, gentle and trusting.
But every time, her mother would flinch as if burned.
"Go to Marla," she would whisper. "Go away."
Lina would turn and wobble back to the maid, her little face confused… but still hopeful.
Children always hope.They always hope someone will love them.
Marla's Secret Comfort
At night, when the house fell silent, Marla would sneak into Lina's small corner of the storage room — the place they called her "bedroom." It had no real bed, just old blankets and a tiny pillow.
Lina would wake instantly, reaching for her with trembling arms.
"It's alright, little one," Marla whispered, sitting beside her. "I'm here."
Lina's voice was barely a sound. "Ma…la…"
Her first clear word.
Marla's throat tightened, eyes burning with tears she couldn't show in the daylight.
"Oh, sweetheart," she breathed, brushing Lina's hair back. "You deserve more. One day, you'll find someone who will hold you the way I do. Someone who will never throw you away."
Lina didn't understand the words — but she felt the warmth.
She placed her tiny palm against Marla's cheek.The gentle touch of an innocent child.
And Marla leaned into it, wishing she could give Lina the life she deserved.
A Glimmer in the Darkness
That night, as Marla left and the candlelight faded, a strange whisper stirred in the room.
A soft glow shimmered briefly above the blankets.Two faint, luminous shapes — like hands made of light — hovered near the sleeping girl.
They lingered there, almost caressing the air around her…
…as though protecting her.
And before disappearing, one of the glowing fingers brushed the side of Lina's cheek.
Her expression softened in her sleep.
Far away, in a world beyond imagination, someone felt her tears.Someone whose destiny was already tied to hers.
The first threads of fate tightened silently in the dark.