No Exit Without Her
Margaret struggled to hold Rayyan up as she helped him into the car. His body was limp from exhaustion, soaked in rain, trembling from pain and heartbreak. Every few minutes, he would whisper her name again.
"Dee…"
Margaret tightened her grip on the wheel, fighting tears. "I've got you, Ray. Just hang on. I'm taking you home."
But getting him into the house was no easier. He wouldn't walk straight. His legs buckled with every step. His face had no color—just swollen eyes, bleeding knuckles, and a ghosted expression of someone who had lost more than love… he had lost his soul.
When she finally got him through the front door, their mother rushed to the entrance.
"Oh my God… what happened?" she gasped, rushing forward, touching Rayyan's soaked hair. "Why is he like this?!"
"He's hurting," Margaret said, voice shaking. "She left. Dee left him."
Their father appeared in the hallway, his expression tight with disbelief. "Who?"
"Daphne Catherine," Margaret said. "She's gone. Disappeared. And Ray… he's not okay."
But Rayyan didn't hear a word. He shoved past them, dragging himself upstairs like a man in chains. The moment he reached his room, he slammed the door shut and locked it.
Then chaos.
They heard it—glass shattering, furniture breaking, drawers being ripped open and thrown. Margaret ran up, banging on the door. "Ray! Open it! Rayyan, please!"
But he was inside, destroying the only space left that held her scent, her memory. He ripped the sheets off the bed, tore down the photos from the wall, smashed the mirror until his reflection bled with cracks.
"NO!" he screamed, over and over. "NO, NO, NO! THIS CAN'T BE REAL!"
Blood trickled from his palm where a shard sliced through his hand, but he didn't feel it. All he could feel was the hole inside his chest, widening with every second. The memory of Dee's smile, her laughter, the way she hugged him when she thought he was mad — it all flooded in like poison.
He collapsed on the floor, surrounded by broken glass and torn pieces of his own heart.
---
Downstairs, Margaret finally broke the silence.
"He's never been like this," she whispered, trembling. "He never let anyone in. Never cared for anyone. Except me and Mom. But Dee… she changed him. He loved her. Deeply. Truly. And now she's gone like she never existed."
Their mother clutched her chest. "I can't see him like this… My boy. My strong, cold-hearted Rayyan… how can a girl break him this much?"
"Because she wasn't just a girl," their father said softly. "She was his. The only one who saw through him, touched his soul. And now…" He shook his head. "He's falling apart."
Margaret turned to them. "I tried. We checked the airport. I called every number. Traced every hint. But everything she left behind—was fake. Even the boarding pass. There was no record. No flight. Nothing."
"So… she didn't fly out?" their mother asked.
"No," Margaret said. "Which scares me more. Either she's hiding… or something happened to her. Either way, Rayyan believes she left him. And it's killing him."
---
Weeks passed.
Rayyan didn't come out of his room. He didn't eat. Didn't sleep. Not properly. He barely spoke. And when he did — it was to her. Whispering to the shadows.
"Dee… come back."
He kept shouting in the middle of the night. Sometimes throwing things. Sometimes laughing and crying at the same time.
Margaret had to sedate him twice. Once after he punched the window so hard the glass cracked like ice. Another time when he screamed her name so violently, the neighbors called to check if someone was dying.
Only Margaret could come near him now. Everyone else—he pushed away.
He refused therapy. Refused help. He just stared at her photos like they might breathe again.
Some days, he'd sit by the window for hours, clutching her old scarf. Other days, he'd lie on the floor replaying voicemails from her, trembling with pain.
And then came the memories.
The forest hike where she got lost, and he carried her back on his back.
The first time she called him "mine."
The time they danced barefoot on the mansion balcony with music playing from a broken speaker.
Now, all those memories were needles.
He screamed again. Collapsed on the floor again. And Margaret cried silently, holding a syringe in her hand, praying for sleep to save him from himself.
---
Three months passed.
And Rayyan wasn't Rayyan anymore.
He was pale. Silent. Distant. A ghost trapped inside a man.
Their parents couldn't take it anymore.
"This can't go on," his mother said one morning, standing by his room. "He'll die if he stays like this."
His father nodded. "We have to send him away. Somewhere quiet. Safe. Let him breathe. Let him forget."
"I don't want to forget!" Rayyan suddenly barked from the doorway, his eyes bloodshot. "You think this is something I can just sleep off?! Like a fever?!"
Margaret stepped in gently. "Ray… listen. I'll stay here. I'll keep looking for her. I promise. But you need to leave. Just for a little while. You're breaking apart."
"I won't go," he muttered. "What if she comes back? What if she needs me and I'm not here?"
"Rayyan," his mom said, tears slipping down her cheek, "if you don't leave, I'll die watching you like this."
He stared at her, shaking.
"Please, my son," she begged. "You're all I have."
His father placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Three months. That's all. There are people out there, Rayyan—human traffickers, organ smugglers, gangs that sell women like objects. You think you're the only one hurting? Innocent people are dying. You can help them. You have to."
Rayyan didn't move for a long time.
But finally… he nodded.
---
The hotel room in Vienna was cold.
Rayyan stared out the large glass window, watching strangers live lives that weren't shattered. His suitcase lay untouched on the bed. His phone was dead.
He didn't unpack. Didn't eat.
He only sat there, staring into the distance with hollow eyes.
The pain didn't stay behind.
It came with him.
Her voice still echoed in the shower.
Her laugh still rang when the wind hit the window.
And every night…
He whispered her name into the dark.
> "Dee…"
As if saying it enough times might bring her back.