Rayyan walked out of the clinic room with Monica by his side.
The corridor lights felt too bright; the smell of disinfectant too sharp.
His heart was still pounding from what he had just heard.
She listed him as the father.
Rayyan stopped walking and leaned his back against the cold wall.
He covered his face with both hands, trying to breathe properly.
"Rayyan…" Monica said softly.
He shook his head.
"I don't know what to say anymore, Monica. Something is not right. Lisa… I know she is suffering, but this…"
He pressed a hand to his chest. "She's destroying my name, Monica."
Monica stepped closer.
"Hey," she said gently, "look at me."
Rayyan slowly lowered his hands.
"I trust you," Monica said firmly. "I know you. You don't lie. And you will never do something like that to any girl. Even a stranger, you wouldn't. I know your heart, Rayyan. Don't doubt yourself."
Her voice steadied him a little, but inside he was still shaking.
"What if the story spreads?" Rayyan whispered. "What if the college finds out? This is… this is not a small matter, Monica."
"I know," she replied. "That's why we need to handle this properly."
Rayyan swallowed hard.
"I think… I think I need to tell my parents."
"Good," Monica nodded. "You should. Let them know the truth first."
The Call to His Father
Rayyan walked to a quiet corner near the stairs and sat on the last step.
His fingers trembled as he dialled his father's number.
It rang twice.
"Hello? Rayyan? Everything okay there?"
His father's voice was calm — but hearing it made Rayyan's chest tighten.
"Dad…" Rayyan said softly, trying not to choke on his words. "I… I need to tell you something. But please… don't get angry."
"What happened, son?"
Rayyan took a breath and explained everything — Lisa fainting, the clinic call, her pregnancy, the doctor's words, how she wrote his name as the father.
There was a long silence on the phone.
Rayyan felt sick. "Dad… please say something."
Finally, his father sighed deeply.
"Rayyan… I trust you."
Rayyan closed his eyes. His shoulders dropped.
"But," his father continued, "this is very serious. VERY serious. This is not a small accusation. If someone writes your name as the father of a baby — it can destroy your studies, your reputation, your future."
Rayyan swallowed. "I didn't do anything, Dad…"
"I know," his father said firmly. "But you must protect yourself. Tomorrow first thing in the morning, go lodge a police report. Tell them clearly what happened. Tell them she used your name without your consent."
Rayyan felt cold.
"Dad… police?"
"Yes," his father said. "Son, listen. This is not about punishing her. This is about protecting you. If she suddenly says something publicly, or if her parents find out and blame you… then what? You will stand alone. Go make a report. Make everything clear."
Rayyan nodded slowly, even though his father couldn't see him.
"And Rayyan," his father added, "you should call Ayden too. He deserves to know the truth. This is HIS responsibility. Not yours."
Rayyan rubbed his forehead. "Dad… Ayden is my best friend. I don't want him to panic."
"But he must know," his father said. "He is involved whether he likes it or not. You should not involve in this mess. HE needs to step up. And if Lisa lied to him… he must hear it from your mouth before she twists the story again."
Rayyan breathed shakily.
"Okay, Dad. I'll… I'll do it."
"Good. And don't be scared. I'm with you. No matter what." If you want me to come, just let me know. I will be there son.
"Thank you, Dad…" Rayyan whispered before ending the call.
Back With Monica
Monica watched him from a distance, worry written all over her face.
She walked over when she saw Rayyan wipe his eyes.
"What did your dad say?"
Rayyan let it out. "He told me to go make a police report tomorrow."
Monica's eyes widened slightly — then she nodded.
"He's right. You should. This is really serious, Rayyan."
Rayyan stared at the floor. "I never imagined… someone using my name like this."
Monica placed her hand gently on his arm.
"Rayyan… you didn't do anything wrong. Don't let fear take over your mind."
But Rayyan's voice cracked.
"Monica… what if people think I forced her? What if… what if the story goes the other way?"
Monica tightened her grip.
"Then I will stand for you. I will speak for you. I know your character. Anyone who knows you will never believe something like that."
Rayyan looked at her — and for a moment, the chaos inside him softened.
"Thank you," he whispered.
Monica gave a small smile.
"We'll get through this. Step by step."
Rayyan nodded slowly.
"I should call Ayden now. Dad said I must."
Monica looked at him carefully. "Do you want me to stay beside you while you call?"
Rayyan hesitated… then nodded.
"Yes. Please."
They walked to a bench outside the clinic, the night air cool and quiet.
Rayyan unlocked his phone, scrolled to Ayden's name…
and pressed Call.
The ringtone echoed in the still night.
Once…
Twice…
Three times…
Then—
"The call is answered, Hello. I'll call you back in a bit."
The line beeped and ended.
Rayyan froze.
Monica stared at his phone.
"Rayyan…" she whispered.
"That wasn't Ayden picking up." It's a girl's voice.
Just as Rayyan processed that thought—
His phone buzzed again.
This time, a message.
Unknown Number:"Stop calling Ayden. He is busy right now."
Rayyan's breath caught in his throat.
Monica leaned closer, eyes widening."Rayyan… what is happening?"
Rayyan stared at the screen, fingers cold, heart beating unevenly.
"I don't know…" he whispered. "Monica… something is not right. Ayden won't talk to me. Lisa using my name… now this message… I don't know what's happening anymore."
A new fear formed in his chest — quiet, deep, and heavy.Everything felt like pieces of a puzzle that didn't fit.
Monica placed a hand on his shoulder."Rayyan… enough for tonight. You're exhausted. I'm exhausted. My dad wasn't happy when I left. I need to go home."
Rayyan nodded silently.
"Tomorrow morning," Monica continued firmly, "after class, we'll go to the police station. You're not going through this alone."
Rayyan took a long breath. "Okay. Thank you, Monica."
She gave a small, reassuring smile."Come. I'll send you back."
Monica Goes Home
After dropping Rayyan at the hostel, Monica drove home quietly. The roads were empty, the streetlights stretching long shadows on the wet pavement.
She reached the house, unlocked the door, and stepped inside.
Her father was still sitting on the sofa.
Waiting.
Monica walked in slowly and sat beside him. "Dad… why are you still awake? It's late."
Her father didn't look at her immediately."Monica, I'm waiting for you. You know what time it is?"
"I know, Dad. I'm sorry. It's been a mess. Some issues with college friends."
Her father exhaled sharply."If it's related to that boy—Rayyan—I don't want to hear it. I already told you, I'm not happy with you going out with him."
Monica felt her chest tighten.
"Why, Dad?" she asked quietly. "What did he do? Tell me."
Her father finally turned to her."You know his background. He's not like us. Not from our level. Life will be difficult for you if you choose someone like him. I want you to have a comfortable life."
Monica stared at him, hurt flickering in her eyes."So that's it? You don't like him because he's not rich?"
Her father didn't reply — which was answer enough.
Monica took a breath, steady but firm.
"Dad… if you want me to be honest… I wasn't happy at all when Uncle's family came with the proposal."
Her father blinked. "Monica…"
"I don't like his son," she continued. "I'm not interested in marriage. Not now. Not with him. Just because he's a doctor doesn't mean I must like him."
Her voice grew softer, but her eyes remained steady.
"Dad… I think we should end that proposal. Stop it from going further. Please."
He opened his mouth to argue, but Monica wasn't done.
"And Dad… trust me. Your friend's son probably has five girlfriends already."She gave a tired half-smile. "So don't worry. He'll find someone who actually wants him."
Her father sighed, rubbing his forehead."Monica…"
But she stood up slowly.
"Good night, Dad," she said gently. "Please… try to understand me. I'm not a child anymore."
Without waiting for a reply, she walked toward her room.
Her father watched her go — silent, conflicted, and for the first time, unsure if he was losing his daughter or protecting her.