The finish line arrived quietly, almost reverently, as if the snow itself understood what it meant. Kajal Kumari Rai did not raise her arms immediately. She slowed, her skis whispering over Gulmarg's powder, her breath visible in the mountain air. For a moment, she simply stood there, eyes searching somewhere far beyond the white expanse, somewhere beyond the cheering officials, beyond the medals, beyond the moment. Somewhere, perhaps, where her father still lives.