The mirror held her in a silence deeper than the temple walls, dressed in the soft hues of dusk-a pale rose saree that clung like a second skin, its woven flowers whispering stories of old. There were no heavy jewels, only slender gold bangles chiming softly at her wrists with every breath, every heartbeat. But it was the nose ring that told the real story.

Delicate, diamond-studded, it gleamed beneath the warm temple lamps-her mother's broken nose stud now reborn, nestled into a new circle Raunaksh had chosen for her.