The first rays of the sun filtered through the heavy drapes, casting a soft golden glow over the room. The air smelled faintly of roses and sandalwood, remnants of the grand wedding festivities that had carried on till the early hours of the morning.

Ruhi Singh Rajvanshi groaned, shifting slightly under the plush silk sheets. Her head pounded, a dull, persistent ache that reminded her of her questionable choices from the night before. She winced, squeezing her eyes shut as flashes of the sangeet played in her mind—music, laughter, her cousins egging her on to loosen up, and the unfamiliar burn of alcohol sliding down her throat.