Adar 

His family ushered his wife and him away from the crowd as the the yelling and shouts increased in volume. Adar's father had enough decency to steer away from the chaos, and they stared wide-eyed at their son's declaration, fear and confusion swirling around their eyes until all the bark was stripped to showcase the burning rage that flooded them. 

After being pushed, dragged, and abused back into his home, he clutched his wife's waist, pulling her shivering body close to his, knowing that he'd denounce all titles if only he could protect her from the wrath they would soon face. 

Not even Rabiya's family could enter through closed doors, not when her aunts still had injuries to be treated. Even while knowing this would be the moment his parents disowned him, a small part of him still wished for the affectionate gaze of his father, for the warmth of his mother's touch, for the acceptance from his sisters. The tear between them was vast, ripping further and further until they were strangers. 

A family of strangers. 

His wife shifted in his arms, and he focused his attention back on her, catching her solemn gaze. She was tired and exhausted, too lost in their uncertain future and the never ending list of demands that came, the mountain of stress they struggled to climb over. 

Adar looked back at his parents, his father's eyes narrowed, his expression colder than a northern winter, an icy glacier knocking the air from his lungs at the constricting pain. A chill ran down his spine that even his wife couldn't cure. 

"You married her," his father said, shadows looming across his features. "You went against my wishes and married her." 

"I did."

From the corner of his eyes, he saw his sisters' flinch at his voice, the admittance of what they considered a sin. 

"For what?" his father bellowed. "To betray your family? Is a woman more important than the love of your parents or did you find such pleasure in disobedience that you married our enemy?" His lips were pulled back in a snarl, a rabid dog too engrossed in thoughts of greed to see the pain etched across his child's visage. No, he was worse than a dog. 

"She is my wife."

He hissed, stepping forward with a puffed chest of arrogance. "And you still call this woman a wife. Did I not make myself clear?" His voice was rough, a growling undertone to the burst of fury that seeped between tense words. 

Adar pushed Rabiya behind him, not liking the underlying threat his father implied. "I tried for years to gain your approval," spoke Adar in volumes that matched his own anger and misery. "Everything I accomplished, everything that I've done to keep this family afloat from the money of menial tasks to traveling far for my education, and still it was never enough. I was never enough for you as a son."

"Watch your tone."

"Why should I?" he fought back. "Why should I when you dragged me back into this horrid place with a threat? You hurt Rabiya's family over and over again, rob them of their inheritance, and you abuse them as you abused your own son."

"I raised you to be the man you are!" his father bellowed with nostrils flared, another step forward. "And instead of gratitude, you go off to marry her."

"Stop."

"Tell me, Adar, how will you claim to be a righteous man when you eloped? Does it feel nice to be a sinner after all these years of falsely portraying a path of virtue?"

Adar's fists clenched at his sides at the accusations thrown at him, his father belittling his integrity and humiliating him. Even after all he endured, all the beatings, all the snide remarks, his father still had no limits to his cruelty. 

At his silence, his father bitterly chuckled. "My son publicly declares his loyalty to a girl he married off the street at hand's notice. No shame in the front of Allah or his parents."

"What did I do wrong?" asked Adar, jaw clenched. "Was my mere existence the subject of your hatred?"

Suddenly, a sharp sting hit Adar's jaw, causing him to stumble backwards as Rabiya steadied him, a pounding ache settling across the side of his face. His father swung a fist at him again as his sisters and mother screamed. 

Adar barely missed the burnt of the hit, yet his father stalked towards him as tendrils of darkness clouded his vision. His breath came out in ragged breaths, sweat beads lining his forehead as he prepared for his father's onslaught. 

"Stop!" yelled Rabiya, stepping between them with her arms outstretched as a block. "Don't hurt him! He's your son," she pleaded. "Please, have mercy for your child."

"Out of the way," sneered his father. "You are not a part of this family."

"No, I won't let you hurt him."

"I said out!"

Rabiya shook her head furiously, and Adar saw the fire in her stance, saw her determination. She was willing to sacrifice her well-being to protect him. She was no match to his father, yet for a chance at saving Adar, she stood her ground, unyielding to the threats his family spurred. 

Pride welled in his chest, but the moment was cut short as he recognized the impatience from his father. The second Adar saw the brute raise his arm and the cruel, sadistic smile, he charged to push his father to the floor, breathing heavily as he stood over him. He would be damned if he let his father strike his wife. 

"You may disrespect me, but never lay a hand on Rabiya," he said lowly in a silent threat. Adrenaline pumped his veins, blood pounding his ears. 

His father laughed again. "You still protect her like a fool?"

"I love her more than life itself."

"Then you should love her more when she's gone."

The weight of his words came crashing faster than Adar's mind could comprehend as he looked wildly around the room, the ambush now making sense. Gears turned in his head, and dreaded terror clawed back, screaming at his limbs to run, to escape, to leave before it was too late. 

His family wanted them dead. 

He glanced at his sisters, at his cold-hearted mother as they stared at Rabiya with dark, sinister glares, gaze sharp enough to cut any bonds he thought they had. They all knew. 

His father sat up on the ground, hooded eyes peering up at Adar like a tiger stalking his prey, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. "You cannot hide forever, Adar, not from us or authorities."

"You knew all this time," he whispered to himself, turning to face the rest of his family. "And you all sold me out to those who want my head."

His family was silent, and his father kept his smug expression, taunting Adar.

"And if we did? Who are you to me, Adar?" he mocked him, standing on his feet. "You lost the right to be our son the second you disobeyed."

Adar was shaking with indignation, an overwhelming force that punched him with ferocity. He knew his parents had the tendency to value money over all else, but he never thought they would sell their own flesh and blood for the opportunity of cash. His life was so meaningless to his family that he had nothing left to offer them.

Sure enough, when his writings sparked outrage to supporters of the revolution, his family saw monetary value in betraying him. That was how little he meant to them. 

With a defeated sigh, he met his father's eyes, stared into a ominous gaze that brought him more pain than joy, soulless, cloudy, and the thundering reality that he was the abandoned son.

When Adar spoke again, his voice was raspy, struggling to come to terms with the betrayal of his family. "I fell in love," he whispered. "All I did was fall in love."

His father's jaw clenched, a vein protruding from his neck as if Adar's tone was unbearable, as if the raw emotion was too suffocating even for a stone heart.

"I see," Adar strained, the silence a louder answer than a voice could muster, a deafening ring. "Then I hope you will let us leave peacefully." 

"I'm afraid the military is already on their way," spoke his mother for the first time. "There is nothing you can do."

We have to go. If we do not leave tonight, then we will be hunted like animals.

Rabiya grabbed his hand, a gentle squeeze that gave Adar the assurance he needed. She understood the gravity of their situation.

"Then we hope you will let us leave with our differences aside," she told her in-laws calmly. "If there is a target on our heads, there is no need to hold us hostage."

It was then that Adar recognized her tone, the subtle confidence that lingered in her voice, soft and assertive. This was the calculating part of his wife, the spark of intelligence that saved him when he was neck deep in liberation territory. 

Adar's father fell for the bait. "No use in trying to escape. They will find you if not today then tomorrow."

"Does Adar mean so little to you that you can fathom having his blood on your hands?" asked Rabiya in a sharp tone. 

His father's smile dropped, gaze hardening like stone, and the shadows crossed his visage like a passing storm, full of chaos and turmoil. It was an expression Adar saw many times in his youth, and whenever he saw it he knew it meant his father's pride took control. 

There was no point in salvaging this toxic relationship. Because if Adar continued to drown in his heartaches, then there would be nothing left of him. They would continue to hurt him over and over and over again. 

Exhaling deeply, he tugged Rabiya's hand as they headed towards the exit. The villagers were quiet beyond the doors, having stripped everything from his in-laws family. Only ashes and ruins would greet them, but they would be alive. 

Before leaving, Adar glanced at his family once more, his jaw throbbing with pain just as his heart crumbled like dust at the indifference his family felt, people he spent his life devoted to. "May Allah let us live the rest of our lives in peace," he whispered, closing the door to his past behind him. 

He erased their legacy from his story. His kin seemed further to him like the continents that would soon divide them, drifting further and further, and a little more after that until they were nothing but a faint memory.

And with time, the pain would dull.

* * * *

After walking a safe distance, hidden under the dancing shadows of a now quiet night, his wife cupped his injured jaw gently, warm, brown eyes softening when he winced.

"Did they always do this to you?" she asked in the velvet tone that brought him to his knees.

"Some days hurt more than others," he weakly smiled. He saw her visage twist in tears, and he followed his instinct, embracing her in the security of his arms. "It's alright, Rabiya. I'm okay now."

She rested her head on his chest. "No, what they did to you was never okay."

"Neither was what they did to your grandfather's estate."

Her fingers clutched at the fabric of his shirt. "You deserved better, Adar. You deserved a loving family," she said wholeheartedly.

Hearing her speak so fondly of him brought a warmth to his chest, a sensation of awe and ardor as it pulsed through his body in flashes. He was in a peaceful bliss whenever she was in his arms, whenever he knew she was safe.

Chuckling deeply, he kissed the crown of her hijab, ignoring the acute pain that spawned from his jaw. "You are my family, Rabiya," he murmured, heart fluttering.

The pain persisted, and the night grew colder, a chilling warning that their time was short. His wife must have felt the bristling winds as well because she pushed at his chest.

"We have to go," she said, frightened. "Your father said the military was coming, and we still don't have the visas."

"Shh," he hushed her, ears alert to any sudden sound. His in-laws were still outside, their voices a small whisper among the winds. "Miraj or Tahmid will know what to do."

Rabiya bit her lip in uncertainty. "I pray that you're right."

* * * *

Adar should have known better. From the bags under Miraj's eyes and the tense stress lines on his forehead, he knew that the visas were still pending.

"Well, I have good and bad news."

Adar winced, not liking his outcomes. "Tell me the good news first."

"Your visas are approved. The American company I spoke to were beyond pleased to have you as an editor."

He sighed a breath of relief. "And the bad news?" he dared to ask.

Miraj averted his gaze, scaratching the back of his neck. "It will take some time for the paperwork."

Adar groaned, hissing under his breath when his jaw pain worsened. He cupped his cheek as he whispered a duaa (small prayer).

He glanced over at the dimly lit room adjacent to them, one of his aunt-in-law's home. Rabiya's grandmother was severely ill, her frail body withering with the time that passed. The stress took a violent toll on her, and she struggled to stay afloat amongst the chaos.

Rabiya was briefing her family members about the events of the night. He watched in fascination as his wife held the calm demeanor that he relied on, the ease in her voice as she explained their plan of action, the poise in her language as spoke like a leader.

It was then that Tahmid stepped out of the room, walking towards Miraj and Adar in the hallway, his lips set in a deep frown.

"Adar, you have to take my sister and leave tonight," he demanded. "If Rabiya is correct, the military will arrive by morning."

"Where can we go?" questioned Adar, shoulders slumped in exhaustion. "Our visas need more time-"

"I know someone," he cut off. "An old classmate of mine. He is in charge of a trading ship, a captain of sorts. He can take you out of the country."

"But where will we go? Without our paperwork, we can't enter the United States," said Adar as their plans seemed to unravel into a web of knots and losses. An inkling of an idea formed in his head. "Wait, is there any way to bring the paperwork to a Sri Lankan airport?"

Miraj stroked his chin. "It is possible, but I do not have connections at their airport."

"I do," beamed Adar. "I need you to make an international call for me. An old professor of mine lives in Sri Lanka now, and I remember his family to be quite wealthy."

Miraj's eyebrows furrowed. "How-"

"Very long story that we do not have time for," brushed off Adar as he paced in the hall. "If we use Tahmid's friend, we can sneak out of the country without raising suspicion. Once we arrive at Sri Lanka, we can take a plane from there."

Tahmid nodded, but worry laced his features. "Are you sure that your old professor will not betray you like your family did?"

Adar offered a tight smile that did not reach his eyes. "I'm afraid that I cannot spend time wondering. Times like this a risk is necessary for survival."

Tahmid looked unconvinced. Sensing the tension , he placed a hand on his brother-in-law's shoulder, squeezing gently in assurance.

"All we can do is pray," whispered Adar.

There was nothing else to be done, except to pray

----

So, I accidentally clicked 'publish' when I was falling asleep while writing. I'M SORRY. That's why I'm ignoring my textbook for an hour to finish writing this.

It was like 3 am too XD

Anyway, I thought I'd end the book sooner, but I think I'm going to dive into the whole immigration aspect as well :D

What do you all think about Adar's family betraying him?

Don't forget to vote, comment, and follow!