The Sharma household was a world away from the orphanage's crowded dorms. Their modest two-bedroom apartment above the tailoring shop was filled with the comforting smells of home-cooked meals and the rhythmic hum of sewing machines from downstairs. Ayan's new room was small but cozy, with a bed of his own, a wooden desk for homework, and posters of cartoon characters that Priya had insisted on putting up to make him feel welcome.
In the first few weeks, Ayan adjusted slowly. Mornings started with Mrs. Sharma's gentle wake-up call, followed by breakfast of hot parathas and chai. Mr. Sharma, with his kind eyes and calloused hands from years of stitching, would ruffle Ayan's hair before heading to the shop. "Study hard, son," he'd say, and Ayan would nod, still getting used to being called "son."
Priya became his instant ally. At ten, she was full of energy and stories from school. She'd drag him to the park after classes, teaching him to ride a bicycle or play hopscotch. "You're my brother now," she'd declare proudly, and Ayan, who had always longed for siblings, felt a warmth in his chest. They shared secrets, like how Priya hated math but loved drawing, and Ayan confessed his fear of the dark, which led to Mrs. Sharma leaving a nightlight in his room.
Evenings were family time. They'd gather around the small TV for cartoons or help Mr. Sharma with simple tasks in the shop, like folding fabrics. Mrs. Sharma, a former teacher, tutored Ayan in reading and writing, her patience endless. There were hiccups—Ayan once spilled milk at dinner, freezing in fear of punishment, but the Sharmas just laughed it off and cleaned up together. "Accidents happen, beta," Mrs. Sharma reassured him.
As days turned to weeks, Ayan began to thrive. He helped with chores, learned to thread needles, and even joined Priya's school events. The orphanage felt like a distant memory. For the first time, he had a family that felt real, with love that wrapped around him like a warm blanket. But deep down, he wondered about his past—where he came from and why he was alone before. Little did he know, that curiosity would soon lead to unexpected discoveries.