Lekha Chatterjee Part 1: The First Sip of Silence It was a Tuesday morning wrapped in clouds, the kind where the sun hides not out of shyness but out of habit. Aanya padded barefoot across the wooden floor of her apartment, the chill of the early hour clinging to her skin. She liked these quiet stretches before the world pressed in with its emails and errands, before her phone began to buzz like a restless bee. She reached for the cupboard that held her teas. It was a ritual more than a craving now—a way to begin, to anchor the…