The Mehra household was a whirlwind of uncharacteristic activity. The usual evening calm had been replaced by a frantic, hopeful energy. For once, the focus wasn't on chores but on presentation. Rooh stood before the small mirror in her room, feeling like a doll being dressed for a showcase.

Her grandmother had been insistent. "Peheno yeh peeli wali saree," she had decreed, holding out a bright yellow silk saree with intricate gold embroidery on the border. "Wahan bahut bade log aane wale hain. Kisi ko pasand aa gayi, toh tera future sawar jayega." (Wear this yellow saree. Very influential people will be there. If someone likes you, your future will be set.)
Rooh had complied, her movements mechanical. She'd draped the saree herself, the familiar ritual offering a small comfort. The silk was cool and smooth against her skin, the colour a vibrant, sunny hue that felt too loud for her muted emotions.