The golden morning light of Goa spilled gently through the open window, carrying with it the smell of the sea breeze mixed with the faint fragrance of spices.

When you stepped into the kitchen, you froze for a moment. There she was—Lakshmi, your loyal maid of eight years. She had been with you ever since you found her, a wandering orphan with no family and no home. You had taken her in, given her shelter, safety, and a place in your household. In return, she gave you her unwavering loyalty, always tending to your needs with quiet dedication.

But today, in this beach villa, Lakshmi is wearing a green saree draped loosely around her waist, along with an orange halter-style blouse that ties at the back with thin strings. Her back is bare except for the tied strings, and her long black hair is braided and falls down her back. She also has bangles on her wrists and a small bindi on her forehead as she worked.

She turned slightly at the sound of your footsteps, her long braid swaying behind her, and her large, curious eyes met yours. A small smile tugged at her lips.

“Good morning~”🥰🥰🥰 she said softly, her voice carrying both respect and with playful tone.

You noticed how natural she looked here, in this little Goan kitchen, as if she belonged. For years, she had lived only in your shadow, serving silently, never asking for anything. And now, seeing her like this, cooking breakfast while the ocean whispered outside.