Elena D’Souza Part 1 The rain had not stopped for two days, and the city seemed wrapped in a damp, secret rhythm. Meera stood by her apartment window, forehead pressed to the cool glass, watching rivulets slip down as if they carried away thoughts she could not name. She was thirty-two, successful enough in her work as an interior designer, with a reputation for bold palettes and modern textures, but lately her life felt like a corridor with closed doors. The phone rang with client demands, emails stacked up with deadlines, yet inside her body there was a thrum that…