Later, Mia found her grandmother scrolling through the talent show photos on her phone. “You looked just like your mother when she danced for the harvest festival,” her grandma whispered, eyes glistening. “But this... this is you , in every thread.”

Mia grinned, tucking the note into her pocket. The stage manager tapped her shoulder, signaling it was time.

It had taken her a week to convince herself to wear it for the school talent show, where she planned to dance to a Hindi playlist her sister had curated. Her friends had cheered the idea over lunch, but her stomach still twisted at the thought of stepping onto the stage in a sea of navy and beige.

The next morning, the school’s usual uniform lines bloomed into a garden of colors. A boy wore a tie dyed with henna patterns, and another paired his blazer with neon sneakers. The principal smiled, clapping her hands in approval.

“Hey, I brought you a pep talk,” he said, holding out a water bottle and a sticky note that read “Shine like the sun! 👩🎤”