The next few days came fast — like someone had hit the fast-forward button on Rayyan's life.
Final exams were just around the corner.
Timetables pinned on notice boards.Lecturers finishing revisions.Students camping in the library, their tables buried under notes, pens, coffee cups, and anxiety.
Rayyan stood in front of the exam schedule for a moment, eyes scanning the list.
Communication English, Engineering Mathematics, Statistic.....
All heavy subjects. All important.
He took a slow breath.
"This is it, Rayyan," he whispered to himself. "No more distractions. No more breakdowns. Just focus."
He spent his mornings in lectures, afternoons in the study lounge, and nights revising in the hostel. His life shrank into a cycle of formulas, past-year questions, and highlighters.
Monica was there too — almost every day.
Sometimes sitting across from him. Sometimes beside him. Always with her notes open, hair tied loosely, pen tapping softly as she explained concepts or solved examples.
"Rayyan, you need to remember this step," she said one afternoon, circling an equation in his notebook. "The examiner loves to test this part."
He nodded, scribbling the notes. "Right. Got it. Thanks."
She leaned back, stretching. "Your basics are strong. You just panic sometimes. Don't. You're smarter than you think."
He gave a small smile. "I'm trying."
She watched him for a second longer, then looked away, cheeks warming slightly.
"Just… don't give up halfway," she murmured. "I want to see you do well."
He pretended to look back at his notes, but inside, her words stayed with him.
I want to see you do well.
For someone like Rayyan, who'd always carried his struggles quietly, that sentence meant more than any grade.
An Empty Seat
It was during one of those days in class that he noticed it.
Lisa's seat.
Empty.
He frowned, glancing at it for a moment.
Maybe she's just absent today.
But the next day, it was empty again.
And the day after that.
And the next.
The gap where she usually sat felt louder than the lecturer's voice.
Even her laugh — the loud, sometimes irritating one that always got attention — had vanished from the campus.
During lunch, Rayyan sat with Amir and Naveen at the café.
"You guys saw Lisa anywhere?" he asked casually, trying not to sound bothered.
Amir shook his head, stuffing fries into his mouth. "Nope. Not for a while, actually."
Naveen frowned, thinking. "Now that you say… yeah. She used to always be hanging around the corridor or canteen. I don't recall seeing her this whole week."
"Maybe she's taking a break," Amir said. "Lot of drama, right? Police, clinic, her issues. Maybe she went back hometown."
Rayyan nodded, pretending to accept that explanation.
But something inside him twisted.
Yes, there had been police investigations. Yes, the culprit had been arrested. Yes, the sergeant told them to step back and let the adults handle it.
But still…
Lisa was Lisa.
Impulsive. Emotional. Messy. Loud.
Silence didn't fit her.
Trying Not to Think, Failing Anyway
That night, Rayyan tried to force his mind back to textbooks.
He sat at his hostel desk, pen tapping the page.
Q: A block of mass m is placed on an inclined plane…
His eyes kept reading the same sentence.
Again.And again.And again.
But all his mind could picture was Lisa in the hospital, eyes swollen, voice shaking.
"I don't know what to do.""I can't face my family.""I just want it to stop."
He squeezed his eyes shut and pushed the book away.
"Stop, Rayyan," he muttered. "You can't help everyone. This is your future. Focus."
But his chest felt heavy.
He pulled out his phone and stared at Lisa's name in his contact list.
His thumb hovered over the call button.
"No," he whispered to himself. "The police said to stay out of it. She's under protection. They're handling it."
He put the phone down.
Picked it up again.
Opened WhatsApp instead.
His last message to her was from days ago.
"Lisa, please listen to the police. Don't make any more decisions alone. We just want you safe."
There was no reply.
He typed slowly:
"Are you okay?"
His finger rested on the send button.
Then he deleted the message.
And closed the app.
He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling fan turning slowly.
"Finals first," he whispered. "Then… I'll see."
But his heart didn't agree.
Monica Notices
The next day, in the library, Monica looked up from her notes and narrowed her eyes at him.
"You're not here," she said.
Rayyan blinked. "I'm… literally right in front of you."
She shook her head. "Your body is here. Your mind is somewhere else."
He looked at his open book — the same page for the last ten minutes.
He tried to deflect. "Just exam stress."
Monica folded her arms. "Rayyan."
He sighed.
"Have you noticed Lisa isn't coming to campus?" he said quietly.
Monica's expression shifted.
"Yes," she said. "I realised. But I thought… maybe she took a break."
"That's what I told myself too. But…" He hesitated. "Something doesn't feel right."
Monica leaned closer. "Did the sergeant contact you again?"
He shook his head. "No. That's why I'm worried."
She studied his face, seeing the concern buried beneath his calm.
"Do you… want to call him?" she asked gently. "The sergeant?"
"I thought about it," he admitted. "But we're so close to finals. I don't want to get dragged into another round of questioning. I can't afford to lose focus again."
She nodded slowly.
"I understand," she said. "But Rayyan…"
He looked up.
Her eyes were soft, serious.
"If something is wrong, can you live with ignoring it?"
The question hit him like a quiet punch.
He swallowed.
"No," he whispered.
She reached across the table and rested her hand on his arm.
"Then do what you need to do," she said. "I'll help you with your revision after. No matter what."
He looked at her hand — small, warm, steady on his sleeve.
Something in him settled.
"Okay," he said softly. "After class, I'll call him."
A Worry That Won't Sit Still
He made it through the rest of the day like a ghost — physically attentive, mentally somewhere else.
At the end of his last lecture, while students rushed out, chatting about exam tips and last-minute revisions, Rayyan stayed back in his seat for a moment.
Then he stepped out of the hall and dialled the sergeant's number.
It rang.Once.Twice.Three times.
"Hello? Rayyan?" the familiar voice answered.
"Hello, sir. Sorry to disturb you. I just… wanted to ask something."
"Go ahead."
"Lisa," he said. "She hasn't come to campus. At all. I was wondering if… everything is okay?"
There was a small pause on the other end.
Not long.But long enough.
"Sir?"
"Yes, I'm here," the sergeant said. His voice was calm, but there was something behind it Rayyan couldn't read. "Rayyan, for now all I can say is… she is not in any immediate danger. But she is going through a difficult time."
Rayyan's grip on the phone tightened. "Is she… safe?"
"She's alive," the officer replied. "And under our radar. That's all I can share at this moment."
The answer was both a relief and a new source of anxiety.
"Okay, sir," Rayyan said quietly. "Thank you."
"Rayyan," the sergeant added. "Focus on your exams. We will contact you if your help is needed again."
"Yes, sir."
The call ended.
Rayyan stood in the empty corridor, staring at his phone.
Alive.But not okay.
And suddenly the silence around Lisa felt less like a break…
And more like a warning.
A Night That Refuses to Stay Quiet
That night, Rayyan tried to study again.
He made mind maps.Solved questions.Read notes aloud.
But between every line of text, Lisa's face appeared.
The tears.The shaking hands.The fear in her eyes when she said someone would kill her.
He shut his book.
"I can't…" he muttered.
He picked up his phone.
This time, he didn't open Lisa's chat.
He opened Monica's.
"Sergeant said Lisa is alive, but going through something. He asked me to focus on exams."
He stared at the text for a second.
Then pressed send.
The reply came fast.
"At least she's safe. But I'm worried too. We finish this week's papers first. After that… if you still feel something is off, we'll check on her properly. Deal?"
He exhaled slowly.
We'll check on her properly.We.
He typed back.
"Deal."
The Cliff That's Coming
He went to bed earlier than usual that night, phone on the side table, notes neatly stacked.
The fan hummed above.
His roommates whispered quietly from the other side of the room.
He closed his eyes.
And for a moment, he almost believed he could sleep.
Until his phone buzzed.
Vibration only.
No ringtone.
He frowned and picked it up, expecting Monica sending a "Goodnight" or reminding him what chapter to read tomorrow.
But it wasn't Monica.
It was an unknown number.
His heart sank.
Not again…
He opened the message.
There was no text.
Just a photo.
Rayyan's breath caught in his throat.
It was a picture of Lisa's student ID card — cracked, a bit dirty — lying on what looked like gravel or an outdoor floor.
A second message followed.
This time, there were words.
"You should've stayed out of it."
Rayyan's fingers began to tremble.
And in that moment, he knew —no matter how much he wanted to focus on finals…
The storm around Lisa wasn't over.
It was only changing shape.