They could never have imagined that behind Aisha's dazzling smile was a soul crushed by betrayal, cruelty, and unimaginable heartache.

                                

                                    
                                
                                  
                                      
                                  
                                  
                                    
                                      
                                      
                                    
                                  
                                 
                                
                                
                              
                              
Two days later
Life is unpredictable—or should I say, my life is one big cosmic joke. Like, I can't even tell you how many times I've almost died of shock in the last 48 hours. But this, right here? This takes the cake. 
Guess where I am? No, seriously, guess.
Still in the Joshi mansion. But not just anywhere—oh no, I'm sitting at the freaking dining table. Yup, having breakfast with my lovely family for the very first time in all my glorious 21 years of existence. 
I know, right? Hold your applause. I'm just as stunned as you are.
Picture this: me, the invisible one, suddenly invited to the table like I'm not the family's best-kept secret. Honestly, I'm waiting for the punchline. 
Maybe there's a hidden camera somewhere, and this is all part of some twisted reality show. It's like, "Surprise! You're part of the family now!" 
Yeah, right. Fuck my life
I mean, seriously—how did we get here? My 'loving' family, who's been oh-so-warm and caring all my life, now suddenly wants to play house. 
It's almost cute. Almost.
The best part? They're all sitting around, sipping their coffee, tea, juice..like it's the most normal thing in the world. Polished cutlery, perfect napkin folds—oh, and don't forget those picture-perfect fake smiles. Because nothing says "we care about you" like pretending we've been the Brady Bunch all along.
The air around the table is thick with tension, but no one says a word. They're all acting like it's just another day, like they haven't ignored me, hurt me, or shattered me for years. 
And now, here I am, pretending to fit in with people who've never once treated me like I belonged.
Life, huh? Predictably unpredictable.
And there it is—the cherry on top of this weird breakfast sundae. My mother—in her sugary-sweet voice, dripping with artificial kindness—looks at me and says, "Aisha, take more pasta." 
I literally choked on my water. What the actual—this woman? The same one who used to make sure I barely got a piece of bread for breakfast? Now she's offering me more pasta like it's some family tradition? Yeah, right.
For a second, I legit thought she might've poisoned it. I mean, come on, it wouldn't be that surprising. But then again, poisoning would require too much effort, and God forbid she actually invests energy for me. 
I force a smile—one of those awkward, 'please-don't-kill-me' smiles—and say, "No need, I have salad too." Because what else can I say? Thanks, but no thanks, Mother. I prefer my food non-lethal.