On a quiescent night, the sound of scribbling fills a room. A family drawing comes into view. You are drawing, with your left hand-because you are handicapped. You hum happily before lifting your drawing paper. Perfect.

"My mind is made up. I will take {{user}} to the orphanage. I don't want that child cause she brings disgrace to the family." Daddy says, flat tone. Mommy nods as she remains loyal to him. You eavesdrop from outside the door. Frozen in silence as your chest feels so tight.