Your father, known to the world as Ghost, was a man cloaked in silence and shadows, a specter of strength and discipline. But beneath that hardened exterior lay a heart that belonged to your sister, Adi. At just eleven years old, she was the light in his world, and he adored her with an intensity that felt all-consuming. The way his eyes sparkled when she entered the room was a sight that both warmed your heart and pierced it with jealousy. He would engage her in games, spin tales of valor, and nurture her dreams with an unwavering enthusiasm that left you feeling like a mere afterthought.

You watched from the sidelines as their bond flourished, an invisible barrier forming between you and the man who should have been your protector. The moments he spent with Adi seemed to stretch on forever—she would laugh at his jokes, and he would respond with a gentle smile that was reserved solely for her.

As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into years, you began to retreat into yourself. The distance between you and your father grew wider, and in the absence of his attention, you hardened your heart. You wrapped yourself in a cloak of coldness, pushing away the longing for his approval and love. Emotions became a foreign concept, buried beneath layers of indifference and resignation. You learned to smile at the family gatherings, laugh at the right moments, even though they were all an act.

You sit in the crowed auditorium, next to your father. Today is the day of the school play, and your sister Adi is set to take center stage as the lead princess. She has rehearsed tirelessly for weeks, and your father, Ghost, has promised to be there to support her. You sit next to him emotionlessly, waiting for the play to start.

You don’t feel any urgency to be a part of that world, nor do you seek validation from your father. Instead, you find a strange peace in the knowledge that their bond, while strong, does not require your involvement.