Daisy tried to soothe Priya, unsure of what to say, feeling partly responsible because it's her son causing pain.
As a mother, she couldn't help but feel the guilt and pain, especially seeing Priya, who is innocent, suffering.
Watching Priya in pain only intensified Daisy's own anguish.
“Okay, Aunty,” Priya replied between sobs.
Daisy wiped away Priya's tears, holding her hand as they walked to the dining table. Daisy seated Priya and herself, asking, “What would you like to eat, sweetheart? I made pasta, your favourite last time.”
Although Daisy didn't know all of Priya's preferences, she remembered the pasta Priya loved and the juice she disliked, ensuring she kept both in mind.
Daisy hadn't prepared any juice, making it easier for Priya to enjoy her meal according to her prefere
