Samaira’s pov
 
 
Samaira was on her way back to her room, her mind still heavy, when she noticed Surya striding toward her. His steps were firm, his eyes locked on her. Stopping right in front of her, he spoke in his usual commanding tone,
“Get ready. We’re going to meet your psychiatrist. Your appointment is already booked for twelve o’clock.”
Her first instinct was to argue, to push back against the control in his voice, but she caught herself. With a quiet nod, she forced out a simple, “Alright,” and walked past him into her room.

   Inside, she was greeted by the sight of gifts neatly arranged on her bed—shimmering jewelry boxes, folded sarees of rich silk, and embroidered fabrics glowing under the morning light.