Roshni’s POV

The morning air was cooler than expected. Thin rays of sunlight spilled across the room, catching on the dust hanging midair like floating threads. Roshni stood in front of the cracked mirror, twisting the corner of her dupatta in her fingers. Her uniform still fit, but everything else about her felt different.

She was a wife now. That word still hadn’t settled in her chest properly.

Behind her, Rahat was slouched on the edge of the bed, pretending to be too sleepy to move. She ...