Author's POV
The Singhania estate was a hive of controlled chaos. Where usually the halls echoed with a heavy, ancestral silence, they now rang with the rhythmic thud of hammers and the frantic instructions of event planners. White lilies—Meera’s favorite, though no one dared say it aloud—were being woven into towering arches, their scent cloying and thick, competing with the smell of expensive floor wax.
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