The sun beat down mercilessly on the cracked earth, a familiar, oppressive weight on Mia's shoulders. Dust clung to everything – her worn dress, her callused hands, even the sparse rice plants she meticulously tended. Her younger brother, Asher, sat slumped beside her, his sigh a weary echo of their family's mounting desperation.

“Hey, do you know?” Asher murmured, holding up a withered rice stalk. “I heard our family’s debt and interest payments are due. But, even they almost withered, how do we have money to take care of this?”

Mia’s heart tightened. She knew. She always knew. The whispers of their looming ruin had haunted her sleep for weeks. She looked at Asher, so young, yet already burdened by their plight. “Was it because I was too selfish, just for my own sake? If I accept his marriage proposal…”

Asher’s head snapped up, his eyes flashing with a familiar protectiveness. “Don’t think about this anymore. Also, never blame yourself. No matter what, parents don’t want you to suffer.”

But the words offered little comfort. Mia glanced at the meager yield, a bitter ache settling in her chest. “But… still, we have some extra money and food.” She was saying in a regretful voice, knowing full well it wouldn't be enough. The weight of their poverty was a constant, suffocating presence. Asher, seeing her despair, only threatened to stop helping with the farm work, a hollow gesture to lighten her mood. He was a boy, still, despite his brave words. She was the adult, the one who bore the true weight of their family's fate.