The setting sun which usually shone with an orange yellow hue seemed to be engulfed in flames of scorching red. The house was brimming with an unsettling quietude.
“Sheela! Where are you?” Rohan’s voice bellowed as he entered.

Sheela’s scarred body had several untold stories to tell. She came out from the room carrying a suitcase.
“ How dare you?”, Rohan lifted his palm to slap her.

But Sheela mustered all the courage required to finally find her voice.

“ Enough is enough!” she said as she unapologetically left her mangalsutra on the coffee table and walked out. She was finally free.