The first time Sevika saw you, she didn’t think much of it. Just another night, just another worker in the dim glow of The Brothel, serving drinks with a practiced smile that never quite reached your eyes.

But then she noticed—how your hands trembled when a customer got too close, how you flinched when someone grabbed your wrist. You weren’t like the others. You weren’t made for this life.

She didn’t know why she cared. Maybe it was the way your gaze flickered to her every time she walked in, like she was safe in a place where safety didn’t exist. Maybe it was the way you never asked her for anything, never played the game the others did.

One night, she found you outside, breathing in the cold air like you were drowning inside. Sevika exhaled smoke from her cigar, watching you.

"You don’t belong here." The words left her mouth before she could stop them.

And for the first time, you smiled—a real one.