"Amrha lives with her father and grandmother in a mansion that looks more like a grand palace. Her mother passed away shortly after she was born, leaving her to grow up surrounded by the love of her family. She shares a strong bond with her grandmother. Her father the richest man in town, and her grandmother, who is more like a trusted friend than an elder.
At twenty years old, Amrha is known for her intelligence and grace. She proficient in her studies and is a skilled horse rider, often admired by everyone in the society. Despite belonging to an affluent family, she treasures the simple moments she spends with her father. Being the only child, their bond is firm.
...
...
It's a peaceful morning, and sunlight streams through the transparent drapes of Amrha's room. Her room, large and elegantly decorated, has a peaceful atmosphere. The bed is positioned front from the the door.by a bed edged leading to her washroom and a dressing table with a gilded mirror. Near the dressing table is a window that opens to a balcony overlooking the sprawling gardens. On the other side of the bed, a vintage swing hangs, adding charm to the space of room.
.....
Where is Amrha?"grandmother asks from a servant
"She's still sleeping."
Downstairs grandmother sit on the couch and reads a newspaper.Dismayed, grandmother climbs the grand staircase. The amrha room on the second floor. Her heels echo in the vast hall as she heads to Amrha's room. She pushes open the door gently and finds Amrha buried under her soft, silken quilt.
"Amrha, wake up! It's morning already," come closer to amrha, her grandmother says, shaking her lightly.
Amrha extends lazily, her voice muted "Grandma,"
She woke up and said,
''Why do we have to wake up in the morning? Evenings are better."
"Aowww"
Her grandmother exhales "Bad habits, my dear. Your father loves it when we all have breakfast together."
Making a cheeky expression Amrha gets out of bed and drags herself to the washroom. Her grandmother watches her with a fashioned smile, thinking, This girl and her sleeping habits!
"Amrha, don't take too much time!.....
Your father is waiting downstairs," she said before leaving the room.
Amrha sprinkles cold water on her face and looks into the mirror, muttering, "Grandmother, I am not in the mood to hear your lecture at that time....
"I am just coming in a few seconds. She said with a smile". In a loud voice..
Amrha's father and grandmother were already seated downstairs at the dining table when she entered.
"Good morning," Amrha greeted them with a smile as she walked over to join them at the table.
"Good morning" and her father starts to eat.
....
Her father, appearing around forty, had dark hair, a square face, and a solid build. He was dressed in a neatly pressed pant coat, his presence commanding yet calm.
Amrha's grandmother, though in her sixties, had an ageless beauty about her, her light white and brown hair framing a face that seemed untouched by time. She was still in great health and exuded a youthful vigor, overseeing the house with a firm but affectionate hand, even giving orders to the servants.
Amrha, however, was different in temperament. While her grandmother held onto the old traditions, seeing the servants as subordinates, Amrha considered them members of the family, always treating them with kindness and respect.
Amrha, with her long black hair cascading down her back, stood at a height of five feet five inches, her presence graceful yet confident. Her beauty was undeniable, though it was her ease in conversation that drew people in, her comfort with others making her approachable.
Her mother, one of the most beautiful women in town, had raised Amrha with strong values. Amrha had learned many household chores and often spent time with the servants, an activity her grandmother disapproved of, believing it unbefitting of their status. But Amrha was a kind-hearted girl, more concerned with the well-being of others than upholding outdated conventions.
.....
.....
"Okay, grandmother. Bye!"
Amraha calls out as she rushes out the door, bag slung over her shoulder. She heads straight to the university for her exam.
On the way, her car slows near a crowded road where she notices a man arguing loudly with a woman. His tone is aggressive, his body language rude and careless. Amraha immediately senses something is wrong.
She steps out of the car with her guard and walks toward them.
"What's going on here?" she asks, her voice firm but calm.....
The woman, with tears streaming down her cheeks, replies in a trembling voice,
"Their car hit my child… and now they're refusing to take her to the hospital!"
The man scoffs, folding his arms.
"We don't even know this woman. Why should we take her child to the hospital?"
A flash of anger rises in her eyes, and for a moment, she feels like calling the police right then and there—having them arrested on the spot.
But she doesn't have the time. She's already running late for university, and if it weren't for her exam, she absolutely would have done it.
"The child is injured and you're standing here arguing? What kind of person just walks away from someone in need?"
Without waiting for a reply, she turns to the crying woman. "Wrap the baby in a cloth and bring her to my car. I'll take her to the hospital myself."
The woman nods silently and does exactly as she's told.
...
At the hospital, Amraha rushes the child into the OPT room and gets her admitted. She gently asks the woman about the men, who they were, if she knows their names — but the woman just shakes her head, terrified and silent. Her hands tremble, and her eyes refuse to meet Amraha's.
Amraha glances at the clock. She's already running late for her exam, so she doesn't push further. "It's okay. Take care of the child," she says before turning to leave.
As Amraha settles back into the car, her mind is trapped in a whirlwind of thoughts.
"That woman was scared—truly scared. But why?"
Why would someone like her be afraid of those men? Did someone hurt her child on purpose?
The question won't leave Amraha's mind. Maybe she needs help… maybe she's in danger.
Amraha is not just any girl in the city. She carries the presence of power, royalty, and legacy—traits passed down through generations. Her father is the wealthiest man in town, known by every soul in the city.
But despite all the luxury surrounding her life, Amraha has never shied away from helping those in need. She doesn't fear consequences, and she certainly doesn't calculate risks when it comes to doing what's right.
Even if helping someone brings trouble later—so be it....
The car pulls up in front of the university. The driver quickly steps out and opens the door for her.
Amraha, lost deep in her thoughts, quietly steps out and walks toward the exam hall. Her mind is still tangled in what happened earlier. Inside the hall, her assigned seat is near the back. She glances around, looking for her spot, exchanges a few polite smiles with classmates, then quietly takes her place.
Even as the paper begins, her focus feels scattered. Her mind keeps drifting back to that woman, the injured child, the fear in her eyes.
When the exam ends, Amraha doesn't stop to chat with anyone. She walks out in silence. Perhaps she wants to reach the hospital as soon as possible.
She gets into the car again, and the driver pulls out onto the road, instinctively taking the familiar route home.
"I'm not going home,"
Amraha says suddenly. Her voice is calm, but carries an unmistakable authority. She stares out the window, not even glancing at the driver.
"G—Ma'am?"
The driver responds, startled, slowly easing his foot off the accelerator. Her expression in the side mirror is sharp and unreadable, and he instantly senses her mood.
"To Dad's office,"
she says simply. No emotion. No eye contact. Just a straight command that ends the conversation before it begins.
The driver doesn't say another word. He hears her, understands her, and obeys without hesitation.
..
.....
,,,,,,,,,
"May I come in?"
A sweet, gentle voice draws Asahi's attention. He's mid-conversation with his manager, reviewing a file across the desk. The office is well-furnished, calm and professional. Asahi sits on one side of the table, while his manager stands opposite, glancing through something on the laptop in front of him.
"My sweet girl, come in, come in,"
Asahi says warmly, immediately rising from his chair. There's a softness in his tone that appears only when he's speaking to his daughter.
While doing so, he subtly gestures to the manager, signaling that he may leave. The manager nods and quietly excuses himself from the room.
Amraha steps in with a radiant smile, walking straight toward her father. She hugs him tightly, and he embraces her with the same overwhelming affection.
In that moment, nothing else matters. If there's a love that exists without condition, without end — it's in this embrace. A bond beyond just father and daughter — it feels as though, in this world.
"What brings you here, sweetheart?"
Asahi asks with a smile, gesturing for her to sit.
"You sit down, Dad. I really need to talk to you."
Amraha gently takes his arm and leads him to the sofa. Her voice is calm but serious.
"Did something happen?"
"No, Dad... nothing happened exactly,"
she replies, settling down on the sofa across from him. Her eyes, however, say something different.
"Dad, this morning... when I was on my way to the university, I saw a woman on the road...."
And slowly, piece by piece, she begins to recount the entire incident — the injured child, the heartless man, the woman's silence, her fear, and the hospital.
As she speaks, Asahi's expression begins to shift — the warmth on his face replaced with deep concern. His eyes narrow slightly, listening carefully to every word.
"I want to go to the hospital again," Amraha says firmly. "I want to find out who that woman is. We should request the road footage, identify those men, and file a police report. They deserve to be punished. Will you help me, Dad? Please?"
Asahi leans back slightly, a thoughtful look on his face. He isn't quick to speak. Maybe it's hesitation — maybe it's experience holding him back.
"My child,"
he finally says, his voice thoughtful, "what you're saying is not wrong. In fact, it's the right thing — to help someone in need. But that doesn't mean you have to take every burden onto your own shoulders."
The quiet smile on Amraha's face fades instantly.
"Dad... Helping someone isn't wrong. And it's not the same as dragging trouble onto yourself."
"Amraha,"
Asahi says, his tone softening, "I'll make sure a case is filed. The men will be found. But let the woman come forward on her own. If she's willing to take that step, we'll support her completely. You should just be there as someone who helped — not someone who gets pulled into the middle of it."
"But Dad—" she begins to protest.
"I'm proud of you," he interrupts gently. "Your kindness, your courage — it means everything to me. But sometimes, staying away from strangers is the wiser path. Not out of fear… but out of caution."
Amraha looks down for a moment, the fire inside her still burning, but quieter now. Somewhere deep down, she knows her father isn't wrong — but she also knows her heart won't let this go so easily....