That night, Room 407 felt smaller.
Laptops open.Forms filling.Call schedules.Meeting notes.
Pihu practiced coffee orders out loud.
Nandini edited her article submission.
Meher drafted proposal follow-ups.
Ananya sat cross-legged, notebook open.
They looked different.
But when the lights went off, they lay the same.
Pihu spoke softly. "Do you think we'll outgrow this?"
Nandini answered, "We'll outgrow versions. Not roots."
Meher added, "And roots don't crack when branches rise."
Ananya stared at the ceiling.
Four girls.
One city.
Becoming four kinds of women.