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AAVYA RAJAWAT ]

Guilt.

As a child, I never truly understood what it meant to feel guilty. Even when my mother caught me stealing strawberries from the basket, I didn’t think much of it. But after my father passed away—leaving behind the label of a cheater—guilt began to wrap around me like a cocoon, tightening with every breath.

My mother never attended his memorial. She never mourned on the anniversary of his death. She didn’t shed tears. She was content with her family, as if he had never existed.