Years ago, Rama and her family were displaced under relentless shelling and siege, only to find that war had followed them in the form of unforgiving poverty. Bread has become a luxury, and the weight of mounting debts is heavier than their days. Now, they live in an underground shelter where sunlight never reaches, and pain never fades. Damp, moldy walls suffocate the air, worsening Rama’s breathing and leaving her little daughter struggling with relentless asthma attacks. In this blessed month, will we leave them to battle hunger and debt alone, or will we extend a hand of mercy to lift them from despair?