Chapter 9: My Name Is Still Khushi

The day her results were announced, the Joshi mansion erupted like Diwali. 

Meera burst into the room with the newspaper in hand, screaming,"Topper! She's India's topper!" 

Arvind Joshi blinked at her over his glasses, confused. "Top of the state?"

 he asked cautiously.

 "No, Papa," 

Meera nearly shouted, "Top of the country!"

For a moment, there was stunned silence. 

Then chaos broke loose. 

The house flooded with neighbors and media crews, sweets were passed around like confetti, and someone even lit firecrackers outside the gate. 

Staff clapped, relatives made phone calls to brag, and photographers clicked endlessly. In the middle of it all, Khushi stood with a composed smile, thanking everyone politely. 

But deep inside, she wasn't celebrating.

She had stood in a similar spotlight once before in another life. A life that had been stolen from her in the cruelest way. This was not her first achievement. It was her (comeback). And this time, she wasn't a girl dreaming of medals. She was a storm biding her time.

Far away, in the old Patil ancestral home, a cup slipped from Pandurang's hand and shattered on the stone floor.

 The sound startled Namrata, who came rushing. "What happened?"

 she asked, eyes darting to the broken pieces. 

But Pandurang didn't answer. His eyes were fixed on the television screen, frozen on the image of Khushi Joshi smiling for reporters.

Namrata followed his gaze, and her heart skipped a beat. "That… that's not possible."

"I don't know how," Pandurang said in a low voice, "but that's her. She's alive."

Namrata sat down slowly, gripping the arm of the chair. "Are you saying... khushi is alive?"

"I'm not saying it. I'm feeling it. A family's always knows."

Across town, the Patil household buzzed with tension. 

Sanjay Patil sat unmoving in front of the TV, his eyes narrowed. The screen showed Khushi's face again, her achievements, her glowing interview clips.

"She looks like her," he muttered.

Neha scoffed, flipping through her phone. "Not this again."

"She does," Sanjay repeated. "She has the same expression as khushi , when she was proud. The same fire in her eyes."

"Sanjay, please. KHUSHI is dead. We did everything to make sure she stayed DEAD," Nisha snapped. "This girl is some rich Joshi girl. Focus on your busniess instead of chasing ghosts."

But Sanjay kept watching the screen, a deep knot growing in his gut.

Meanwhile, in the office of Karan Roy, the screen flashed with Khushi's interview clip.

He watched her on screen, head slightly tilted."She's back," he muttered to himself. "And she's playing the game better than ever."

It hadn't always been like this.

~~Flashback~~

Karan still remembered the night their engagement was fixed. It was over a formal dinner at the Joshi estate polished cutlery, expensive wine, and underlying motives.

Khushi had looked stunning in a silk saree, but her eyes were unreadable.Their parents talked mergers and family legacies, while Karan studied her in silence.

Later, on the terrace, away from the golden chandeliers and champagne toasts, he had asked her bluntly,"Do you even want this engagement?"

She hadn't flinched. "Want is irrelevant. Power is earned, and sometimes… worn like jewellery."

He had smirked, both impressed and intrigued."Then I suppose we'll look good in wedding photos."

But beneath the calm surface, Karan had known this wasn't love. This was war.And Khushi Joshi was a far more dangerous player than anyone gave her credit for.

~~Flashback end~~

A few days later,

the Joshi family hosted a grand success party in a five-star hotel.

 Fairy lights twinkled, a soft jazz band played in the background, and guests floated in wearing designer outfits. The air smelled of perfume, money, and ambition.

 Everyone wanted a picture with Khushi Joshi the country's golden girl.

She walked in like royalty, dressed in a pastel pink lehenga, her face glowing under soft makeup. 

She smiled when needed, answered questions gracefully, and played the role of the perfect achiever. 

But inside, she felt detached, as if the entire evening was just another costume she had to wear.

"Khushi! Your fiancé just arrived!" Meera called out excitedly.

Khushi turned slowly, already bracing herself.

Karan Roy walked in with the ease of someone used to commanding rooms.Dark suit, sharp jawline, cold confidence he looked like every headline ever written about him.But to Khushi, he always felt… off.

Something about him triggered a tightness in her chest, a flicker of warning in her spine.She didn't remember much of her past only fragments, dreams that vanished when she tried to hold onto them.But when it came to Karan, the unease was persistent. Familiar, like a scent from a nightmare.

She had tried to tell herself it was nerves, the pressure of an arranged engagement, the stress of public life.But every time she looked into his eyes, she felt like he knew something she didn't.

Something about her.

He handed her a bouquet of white lilies. "Congratulations," he said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"White lilies?" she asked dryly. "Are you mourning me already?"

He chuckled. "You did die once, didn't you?"

Her smile vanished for a split second. Just a flicker. But he noticed.

"I was joking," he added quickly.

"Sometimes jokes hit too close to the truth," she said and walked away.....leaving behind her perfectly staged smile, the scent of lilies, and a man who looked like he belonged in her past…even if she couldn't remember why.