Chapter : Her Name Was Dee
Margaret hadn't slept for days.
The last memory of Rayyan—leaving silently, destroyed from the inside—haunted her like a living ghost. And Dee… vanished. No word, no sign. She wasn't answering anyone's calls, her mansion abandoned, curtains drawn shut.
Margaret took matters into her own hands.
She stormed through Dee's mansion like a woman possessed—rifling through drawers, scanning closets, lifting every paper, every trace of something that might lead her to the truth. It wasn't just suspicion—it was intuition. Something was wrong.
Then she found the security room.
Old CCTV footage buzzed to life. She fast-forwarded, eyes sharp. And there—pause—Dee. Slipping into a black coat and leaving at morning. Not alone. A man beside her. Tall. Sharp jawline. The camera was too blurry to confirm, but Margaret quickly zoomed in and captured his frame.
"Who the hell are you?" she whispered, screenshotting his face.
Her hands shook. Was Dee cheating on Rayyan?
She refused to believe it. Not without proof.
---
Margaret dove deeper—CCTV of the main road. Dozens of hours. She finally found the same man's car. A black SUV. Plate: LYF-4209.
She traced the registration.
Dead end.
The car had been reported burned in an accident near an abandoned scrapyard.
Margaret drove there herself.
The stench of ash and melted metal choked the air as she walked through the skeletal remains. She met the man guarding the lot.
"That car. When did it get here?" she asked.
The man shrugged. "Few weeks back. Big fire. Guy brought it in."
"Who was he?"
"Didn't ask. Paid in cash."
Margaret pulled a few bills from her purse. "Start remembering."
He hesitated. "Fine. Young man. Looked rich. Didn't say much. Kept watching the road like he was being followed."
She leaned closer. "Where did he come from?"
"Out of the city. Village side. Past the hills."
Margaret's heart pounded.
She got into her car, clutching the blurry image of the man from the footage, and drove toward the outskirts.
---
The village was quiet—wooden homes, rustling trees, people who didn't speak to strangers.
But Margaret had persistence like wildfire.
She showed everyone the picture. "Seen this man?"
Most turned away or shook their heads.
Until a boy tugged on her coat.
"I saw him. He buys candy from my uncle."
He led her down a winding dirt path to a remote house nestled among the trees. Secluded. Old. Suspiciously clean.
Margaret crouched, snapped pictures. "Thank you, sweet boy."
She waited until the kid left, then crept inside.
The house was chilling—clinical on the inside. She found a backroom filled with boxes marked with biohazard signs, vials of glowing purple and blue liquids. Scientific papers scattered across the desk. Words like "Enigma Sequence," "Subject Response," "Cell Mutation" leapt off the page.
She didn't understand all of it.
But she Googled the chemical codes, the enzymes listed in the margins.
The results hit her like a truck.
Genetic rewiring. Experimental injection. Cognitive risk. Dangerous.
It wasn't surgery—it was human experimentation.
She scanned everything—every note, photo, file—and sent it all to Rayyan's email.
"I hope you see it in time," she whispered.
Among the documents, a lab name appeared repeatedly.
"LUXGEN Laboratories."
Her blood froze.
She tried contacting some sources for help, but time was running out.
So Margaret—an ordinary woman with an extraordinary mind—went alone.
---
She arrived at the facility dressed like any technician—lab coat, clipboard, glasses. She knocked out a janitor in the back hallway and stole his ID card.
Her heart beat like thunder.
Walking through the corridors, she passed guards, scientists, machines beyond comprehension. Nobody stopped her. She moved like she belonged.
But she didn't come for them.
She came for her.
Margaret turned a corner and froze.
There—down the glass corridor—stood a heavily guarded room. She peeked inside. A woman was lying on a bed—strapped, pale, hooked to IVs. Her skin translucent. Her pulse slow.
Dee.
Margaret pushed down the rising panic. She grabbed two sealed bottles from a nearby shelf and approached the guards.
"Boss said put this inside. Urgent serum stabilizers."
The guard frowned. "Why now?"
"Because if her blood pressure crashes, you'll be the one explaining it to the boss."
He stepped aside.
Margaret entered. Her hands trembled as she approached Dee.
"Dee," she whispered. "Wake up. Please…"
No response.
Tears welled in Margaret's eyes. "Rayyan… he still—"
Suddenly, voices echoed down the hallway.
Duke.
Margaret didn't wait. She slipped out quickly, walking away without looking back.
Behind her, she heard voices.
"She'll wake by tomorrow. Then we begin the final trial."
---
Margaret sat outside the compound, breath shaking.
She had one night. One chance.
They were still injecting Dee with god-knows-what. What if she didn't survive? What if they changed her?
No. Not tonight.
She returned under the cover of darkness. Quiet. Swift.
She entered the room again, this time with a wheelchair.
As she carefully lifted Dee into it, Dee stirred. Her eyes opened—dazed. Hollow.
"Who… who are you?"
"I'm Margaret. Rayyan's sister. I came to save you."
Dee blinked. "Rayyan?"
"You don't remember?"
She shook her head slowly. "Who's… Duke?"
Margaret's throat tightened. "He's the one who brought you here. You trusted him. He betrayed you."
Before Dee could reply, Margaret's phone buzzed.
Rayyan.
She picked it up instantly.
"Margaret—where are you?!"
"I'll tell you everything but—"
The line went dead.
Duke stood at the door.
Three men stormed in.
Margaret was dragged to the floor.
She screamed, tried to fight, but they kicked her down, hit her hard across the jaw, then again in the ribs. A gunshot rang. Pain exploded in her side. Blood soaked her shirt.
They dragged her into the woods and dumped her like trash.
---
She couldn't move. Her breath was shallow. But her mind…
Still worked.
With trembling hands, she reached for her watch—hidden in her bra.
She pressed the record button.
Her voice cracked.
"Rayyan… it's Margaret. Duke... he has Dee. She doesn't remember you. They're experimenting on her. She's not safe. I found everything. The files. The serums. I tried to get her out… but they caught me. I… I don't know how long I have. Please save her. Please…"
She pressed send.
But the message didn't go to Rayyan.
It went to one of her men.
And the race had already begun.
---