The early hours of the morning had a secret, hushed quality—a time when the world still slept, and the boundaries between duty and desire blurred into a quiet intimacy. For Nayra, this was the only moment when she could truly let her music flow, unburdened by the expectations of family or the scrutinizing eyes of society.

In the deep blue of pre-dawn, as the Oberoi mansion lay in silent repose, Nayra slipped quietly from her room. The corridors, usually filled with the soft sounds of daytime activity, now echoed only with the gentle rhythm of her careful footsteps. Clad in dark, comfortable clothes, she moved like a shadow—stealthy, determined, and filled with a longing to reclaim a piece of her soul that was meant to sing.