Chahat lay sprawled across her bed, her breath was deep and even. Her room, a canvas of pastel shades, mirrored the tranquility of her sleep. Morning light streamed through the half-open curtains, casting a warm glow on her face. The digital clock on her nightstand blinked insistently, it's red digits a stark contrast against the serene white wall. It was 9:00 AM, and the quiet hum of the city outside grew louder, hinting at the busting day that had already begun. Her mother gently knocked on the door grew more insistent.