Paths To Forever

Dance with the Devil

The room fell silent.

I hadn't meant for my voice to come out so small, but it did. Because no matter how much I joked, no matter how much I pretended that it didn't sting-it did.
Events like these always made it painfully obvious that there was a space in my life that could never be filled.

Amira was the first to speak, her voice softer than before. "Haiza..."

Before she could say anything that would make me feel things, Zahra plopped down beside me and threw an arm around my shoulders. "Do you really think we'd let you feel alone for even a second?"

Mahi sat down on my other side, her usual energy replaced by something much gentler. "You're not just going to the dinner-you're going with us."

"What do you mean?" I frowned.

Amira smirked. "We mean that our moms are coming, and you know how much they adore you. They'll drag you there themselves if they have to."

And that was true.

Mahi, Amira, and Zahra's parents had adopted me in every way possible. I had spent so many holidays, so many weekends at their houses that I had lost count.
Their mothers treated me like their fourth daughter, and their fathers never let me feel like I didn't belong.

Mahi nudged me playfully. "My mom literally asked me, 'What is Haiza wearing? Make sure she looks like a princess!'"

Zahra grinned. "My mom insisted they serve your favorite food."

Amira flicked my forehead. "And mine has already decided that you're sitting with us at dinner, no arguments allowed."

I blinked at them, my throat feeling tight for a second.

These girls. Their families. They never let me feel like I was missing something.

And for that, I loved them more than I could ever express.

I exhaled, finally letting a small smile slip. "Fine. I'll go. Happy?"

"Very," Mahi beamed before immediately switching back to her usual energy. "Now come on, we need to get you ready."

Before I could react, Amira disappeared into her room and returned with a-
dear God-midnight blue gown. It shimmered under the light, looking all elegant and expensive, which translated to pain and suffering for me.

"No." I took a step back. "Absolutely not."

Mahi rolled her eyes. "You make such a fuss over everything."

"It's not a fuss, it's self-preservation."

But they didn't listen. Instead, they attacked.

Within seconds, I was being dragged into a makeover session against my will.

Mahi shoved me onto a stool. "Hair first."

Zahra cracked her knuckles. "Makeup next."

Amira held up earrings. "And accessories."

I crossed my arms. "Are you dressing me for a dinner or a royal wedding?"

"Shut up and sit still."

The next thirty minutes were a blur of brushes, curling irons, and a lot of my protests being ignored.

Mahi curled my hair into soft waves, Zahra expertly did my makeup, and Amira added the finishing touches-earrings, a bracelet, and some perfume because apparently, I needed to smell expensive too.

Then came the ultimate betrayal-heels.

Mahi placed them in front of me like they were holy relics.

I took one look and deadpanned, "I'm running away."