The officer stood patiently, unfazed by the collective attention. His demeanor was professional, yet there was a glint of something akin to respect in his eyes. I could feel the weight of the stares, yet it was liberating rather than oppressive. For the first time in a long while, the narrative had shifted in my favor—and not through words, but through undeniable action.

I turned to the officer, a newfound confidence threading through my voice. ‘Thank you,’ I replied, nodding. My gaze briefly met my father’s and Laya’s, and in that shared look, I saw everything: the assumptions they had made about me, their underestimation, and now, their recalibration.