Kavya's First‑Person POV

The fire in the mess hall was more ritual than warmth. Ashes glowed orange in the hearth, and the smoke curled toward the ventilator like a silent prayer. Outside, the Siachen wind battered the corrugated roof, rattling shutters and carrying flecks of ice that seeped through every crack. Inside, it was an island of heat and humanity—officers loosening their tunic collars, sharing jokes that drifted as white smoke into the rafters.