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Meeting makeup artist Shafag Novruz cracked the walls around that silence. But Shafag did not begin with lipstick or foundation. She began with dignity, restoring it gently, almost reverently. Dental care, clean nails, a careful combing of tangled hair, each small gesture whispered, “You are worth this. You are worth being seen.” As Rita’s hair was lightened and styled, as layers of dirt and neglect were replaced with gentle grooming, something inside her began to loosen. The invisible armor she had carried for years—of shame, sorrow, and self-preservation—started to fall away. Her shoulders lifted; her gaze sharpened. For the first time in a long while, Rita did not see herself as a cautionary tale or a city statistic. She saw herself as a person who could still step into the world and be recognized, not just survived.
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