…She couldn’t afford to stop for even a minute. Ahu trailed closely behind Rengin, listing what had been done and what still required attention. Only now did Rengin truly appreciate her assistant’s help. She was the perfect right hand, and Rengin couldn’t imagine how she would manage without her.

– The committee is expecting your explanation. They weren’t pleased that two renowned doctors were on that plane, or with the choice of airline, – Ahu reported in an even tone.

– You prepared the report, right? – Rengin asked as they walked.

– Yes, it’s already on your desk, – Ahu quick-stepped behind her chief physician in high heels. – I should warn you, the committee will be tough. You need to be ready for their harsh questions.

Rengin stopped by the elevator.

– We have too many staffing gaps, – she nodded, pressing the button. – Any news? – she tried to sound steady, but her voice still wavered.

Ahu lowered her gaze and shook her head.

– Nothing yet. Recovery efforts are ongoing. We’ll be informed immediately. Professor Evren went to the crash site.

– Ahu, – Rengin stepped into the elevator, – I need a list of candidates… – she trailed off.

The young woman bit her lip. She knew exactly what Rengin was going through, saw how she was holding herself together. They had no updates yet, but as the head of the hospital, Rengin had to ensure its uninterrupted operation. They were responsible for lives — saving them every minute. Her chief needed to be prepared with proposals for the committee. She understood all of this perfectly.

– Candidates… – Ahu sighed. – I’ve already thought of that. I’m sorry. The list of possible hires is already in your office. I’ve marked those we could bring on board, but the final decision is yours. It’s just a preliminary list.

– They won’t fire me, – Rengin said as the elevator doors opened.

– Of course not. There’s no reason to. And you already have proposals ready, – Ahu tried to boost her confidence. She was afraid to even ask about Bahar, Uraz, Siren. So many doctors suddenly unavailable. Who among them could even return to work tomorrow? – Bahar has patients, – she added, as if stating the obvious. – I’ve redirected most of them to other doctors, but one woman insists on seeing only Bahar.

They approached the office door.

Rengin reached for the handle. She swallowed hard, afraid to turn to Ahu. She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. She didn’t even know what the next hour would bring. All they knew now was that a plane had crashed, and with no confirmed list of casualties or survivors, they clung to hope.

– Is it urgent? – one short word, and Rengin pushed open the door.

– The pregnant woman refuses to see anyone but Bahar. She’s about five months along. No one else, only Bahar — her exact words, – Ahu said as she closed the door behind them. – She might be urgent, but she won’t let anyone examine her.

Rengin frowned and sat down at her desk.

– Why the insistence? – she asked quietly, picking up the sheet of paper.

– She keeps saying only Bahar can help, that she doesn’t trust anyone else, that Bahar will save her babies, – Ahu stood beside Rengin, who was now seated.

– Twins? – Rengin didn’t lift her eyes from the report, scanning the lines, trying to focus on the formal phrasing.

She wouldn’t let herself think. She forced herself to work, because at this moment, that was exactly what was expected of her — while Bahar held the family together. Rengin had to hold the line at work, so that there would still be something for them to return to.

Those thoughts alone kept her from crying, from letting her mind wander back to Timur, to their past — a complicated past where they had been together, but never truly close. And now… would there be anything left at all?

Yes. There would. They still had their daughter — Parla…

…Bahar had children. Rengin had a daughter. But what did she have?
Cagla stood by the window, staring into the darkness. All day they had waited for news, but the phones remained silent — and the longer that silence stretched, the less hope there was. She could repeat all she wanted that Tolga was alive, but with each passing minute, her belief faded. She was beginning to lose hope in this house. She looked at Bahar, at her children, at Parla — Timur and Rengin’s daughter. They all had something left. All she had was the ring on her finger.

Why was fate so cruel? After all these years, she had finally found her man. They had been so happy, but life hadn’t allowed them to fully enjoy it. As if someone above had decided her destiny — to be forever the companion of her friend Bahar.

Cagla shook her head. No. She wanted her own life. Her own man. Her own child.
Tolga.

Cagla placed a hand on her abdomen. They hadn’t even properly discussed having children. She had only mentioned that the chances were slim — but they were there.

– I can’t take it anymore, – she whispered. – I can’t, – she said louder and turned around.

– Cagla, – Bahar immediately walked over to her.

– I can’t stay here any longer. They should have told us something by now! Hours have passed and still nothing! – she looked at Bahar with defiance. – Why is Evren silent?! Bahar, why won’t he say anything? Why won’t he call?

– Sweetheart, – Bahar tried to hug her.

– No, – Cagla pulled away. – Is he too scared to say it over the phone? – she stepped toward the door.

– Cagla, – Bahar followed her, never letting her out of sight. – Please, calm down. We have to be patient.

– I have no patience left! I can’t wait anymore, Bahar! I can’t wait and not know! – she nearly screamed. – I’m going there! – she declared and stormed out of the house.

– Cagla, don’t be reckless, – Bahar called after her. – Stop! They won’t let us near the crash site! Mom, stay with the kids, Nevra, Reha Bey, please, Siren, – she called out on her way out of the house. – Cagla, stop! – she shouted as she heard the car engine roar.

Bahar barely managed to jump into her friend’s car before Cagla hit the gas and pulled out of the driveway.

– They’ll let us in, – Cagla nodded. – You’re his ex-wife, the mother of his children. I may just be the fiancée, no documents, but you’re his family. You have the right to know, Bahar! – she rattled off rapidly.

– Cagla, please, – Bahar reached for her hand, but stopped herself, afraid of distracting her from driving.

– I won’t kill us, if that’s what you’re thinking! – Cagla snapped. – I want to be happy! – she declared. – I have the right! They’re not taking him from me. No! And you will be happy too! We all will! Enough! – she slammed the brakes so hard the seatbelts dug into their skin.

– Cagla, – Bahar exhaled, wincing in pain. – Let’s talk, please.

– I don’t want to, – Cagla shook her head. – I don’t want to and I won’t!

– Breathe. Please, – Bahar finally touched her hand. – Where are we going? What are we even going to do?

– I don’t know. But we have to do something, don’t you understand? – she whispered, staring ahead. As soon as the light turned green, she hit the gas again.

Bahar flinched when her phone vibrated in her hand.

– What? Who? – Cagla asked without turning. – What news? Come on, Bahar, talk! – she demanded. – Where am I going?

– To the hospital, – Bahar exhaled.

Cagla gripped the wheel tighter and flicked on the blinker.

– I told you, sweetheart. I told you Tolga was alive! – she whispered with her usual stubbornness.

– Just don’t speed, – Bahar pressed a hand to her chest.

– And Timur? – Cagla finally asked.

– They still haven’t identified who it is, – Bahar admitted. – And… – but she didn’t finish.

– It’s Tolga! – Cagla slammed the steering wheel with her hand, cutting her off. – It’s Tolga! Let Evren say it’s Tolga!

– Rengin wrote, – Bahar confessed. – Evren is silent. One passenger is being brought to the hospital.

– Why is he silent at a moment like this?! – Cagla burst out. – Why won’t he call, or message? Don’t tell me he’s busy. With what?! – stopping at a light, she looked over at her friend. – What justifies his silence?! Keeping distance now? Seriously?

Bahar exhaled:

– And you seriously want me to say out loud what exactly Evren is doing right now?! – her voice trembled, but sharpness crept in. – Or do you really think one of us — you, me, or Rengin — should’ve gone to… – her voice faltered, and she winced again.

Her heart ached with that unpleasant tightness in her chest. She couldn’t describe it. Just that everything felt wrong. She didn’t know how to answer Cagla. She didn’t even know who she wanted that passenger to be — Timur, Tolga, Yildirim, or someone else entirely.

– I’m sorry, – Cagla suddenly whispered. – I didn’t mean to take it out on Evren.

– It’s okay, – Bahar sighed. – It’s okay.

She said it out loud, but she knew — it wasn’t okay. No matter what happened, all eyes would turn to Evren. Because he hadn’t been on that doomed flight. And showing up was the best decision he could have made — for her, for himself. She didn’t know what would become of them, if anything. But the most important thing — he was alive.

No more planes. Ever.

– One more block and I’ll see Tolga, – Cagla nodded. – I’ll see him. I’ll hug him. They will let me see him. They wouldn’t dare keep me out.

Bahar closed her eyes. She didn’t know who to pray for. She wished no harm on anyone. It would’ve been better if no one had gotten on that plane.

No one met them at the hospital. Bahar scanned the area for Doruk — she’d messaged him, he’d seen it, but hadn’t replied, and that unsettled her.

– Cagla, – Bahar could barely keep up with her friend as she rushed toward the entrance.

– Bahar, I want to see him! – Cagla shouted as she stormed into the hospital.

Bahar hurried in behind her.

– Cagla! – she called out.

– Bahar, which floor?! – Cagla frantically pressed the elevator button.

– Miss Bahar, – came a small voice from the side.

Bahar ignored it, trying to call.

– Doruk, pick up, – she muttered.

– Bahar, hurry! – Cagla stepped into the elevator.

– Miss Bahar, – the unfamiliar voice was now very close.

And the next moment, a young woman rushed at her — almost knocking Bahar over, grabbing her arms. Bahar dropped her phone, trying to steady herself and the pregnant woman.

She looked at her in confusion, then glanced toward Cagla in the elevator.

– Bahar, come on! – Cagla was tapping her foot impatiently.

– Miss Bahar, I knew you’d come today, I knew it, – the girl smiled, clutching her hands tighter. – You’ll save them, won’t you? – she said — and then her face twisted in pain, eyes rolled back, and she collapsed into Bahar.

Bahar caught her, held her tightly.

– Help! – she cried, slowly lowering to the floor with the girl in her arms, not letting her fall.

The elevator doors closed in front of her eyes — taking her friend upstairs without her…

…Rengin tilted her head back. The meeting with the administration had been grueling.

– You said everything well, – Ahu placed a cup of coffee in front of her. – I’ve already sent out the invitations. The first candidates will arrive tomorrow.

Rengin shook her head.

– We don’t even know anything yet, and we’re already looking for replacements, – she whispered. Her hands brushed the coffee cup.

– You’re ensuring the hospital keeps running, – Ahu circled the desk and stood across from Rengin. – It’s only invitations for now.

– It’s been too long without any news, – Rengin whispered. – You know exactly what that means.

– No, – Ahu waved her hands, refusing to accept her words. – Professor Evren hasn’t returned yet and — She fell silent as a knock on the door interrupted her. She turned quickly.

– Or maybe he has, – she added, recognizing the figure entering the room and trying to anticipate the news.

– Ahu, – Rengin stood, touching her chest for a moment before quickly lowering her hand.

Her assistant nodded and swiftly left the office, though she, too, desperately wanted to hear what Evren had to say.

– What is it? – Rengin braced herself against the desk, not trusting her legs.

– I brought in a survivor, – Evren’s voice was heavy with exhaustion.

Rengin closed her eyes and lowered her head, refusing to let herself believe the worst. Still standing, she clutched the desk.

– He’s not the only one, right? – she managed to ask, afraid to voice another question.

– We’re still waiting, – Evren rubbed his temple, wincing. – The identity’s still unknown. – He removed his jacket and slung it over his arm.

Rengin watched him. The uncertainty was eating them alive. Children were waiting for answers at home, and they still knew nothing — understood nothing — except one thing: life went on. It always did.

– I don’t want to wait anymore, – Rengin looked at him firmly, changing the subject. – What’s your decision? I need to know! – her voice was resolute, her gaze unwavering.

Evren shifted his jacket from one arm to the other and then tossed it on the couch. Rolling his shoulders, he replied:

– You really want to talk about this now? – His hands hovered as if to go into his pockets, but instead he unbuttoned his shirt cuffs and rolled up his sleeves.

He never liked suits and button-downs.

– Exactly now! – she refused to let him dodge it. – I gave you a valuable offer. Either you accept or decline. Evren, you no longer have any surgeries scheduled here. You can’t stay here any longer.

– I could work for a while, – he began, but she cut him off.

– I can’t allow you back in the OR, – she stated calmly. – Not anymore.

– But right now, with this situation— – he didn’t understand her firmness.

– And why? – Rengin stepped around the desk. – Why, Evren? For a while isn’t good enough. Life isn’t temporary — you either live, or you don’t. – Her tone sharpened. – I need a staff of dedicated professionals! I need research to move forward! Everything you do in America, you can do here — and more, at this hospital! You’ll have your own department. Build your own team. New assistants will come, and they need to be trained. We’re a great base — and you can be part of our team.

– Why should I stay here? – the words escaped him before he could restrain the emotion. Anger and frustration laced his voice.

He had returned from America like a star… had walked in to applause, barely glancing at Bahar — and she had stood her ground. She kept working. Kept learning. She’d accepted that he was moving on. He rarely even mentioned Bahar anymore and was ready to shut the subject for good. But Rengin refused to drop it.

– I’m not Tolga, Evren, – she stepped closer. – Let me ask you directly: what have you done for Bahar to choose you? – she looked him straight in the eyes. – You blame her for walking away, but she’s not just a woman, Evren — you knew that! She’s a mother, a grandmother. She has a family — always has, always will. When she married Timur, she was never alone again, and especially not after the divorce. She carried even more responsibility. She can’t afford to make decisions for herself alone!

Rengin didn’t look away, and Evren stood silent. For once, he didn’t try to interrupt. He let her speak.

– Have you ever thought about what she’s going through? That any decision she makes ripples across everyone’s lives? Or is it always about you men feeding your egos, getting hurt when you’re not the one chosen? Not chosen? – she almost smirked. He kept listening, not shutting her down — finally.

– Still think she didn’t choose you? I’m sorry, – she took a step back – I’m not your therapist. And I’m not the one to say this—but I’ll say it anyway. From experience: when you walk away, all the responsibility stays with the woman. It all lands on her shoulders! She decides whether to give birth or not. She has to work, raise kids, manage the house — she decides for everyone.

Rengin coughed, poured herself water from a pitcher, and drank half the glass. Holding the glass, she continued:

– Whether you and Bahar end up together or not — that’s your personal matter. – Then her tone suddenly shifted. – I want your decision today. You need to choose, because tomorrow someone else will take that position. Candidates are coming. Just so you know – Bahar has learned to work without you. She managed to work next to you. You helped her return to the profession – but she became a doctor without you. And that’s already a fact. That chapter is closed.

– I’m not Timur. Don’t compare me to him! – Evren hissed, his jaw clenched. Rengin flinched slightly at the name.

– Then who are you? – she asked quietly, not turning to face him. Her shoulders drooped. – Who are you, Evren? Just another doctor? You realize there are plenty of specialists — maybe not like you – but still. The real question is — patients are already coming here asking specifically for Bahar. She’s a good doctor. She will become one of the best. You and I both know her potential. She’s a doctor, a mother, a grandmother. She was a wife for 25 years… I’m just a doctor and a mother. But you — who are you, Evren? Why should she choose you?

– Bahar won’t wait years, – she added. – Not the Bahar I know. Do you know her?

Evren clenched his fists. He was ready to answer — but then a knock interrupted them. Doruk burst into the office. He glanced briefly at Evren, hesitated, then turned to Rengin.

– I don’t recognize our Bahar, – he rushed toward her. – She’s decided to perform the surgery — she wants to terminate one of the babies. – He blurted it out. – That’s not our Bahar. Not the one I know. Bahar wants to terminate one of the twins.

– What?! – Rengin and Evren spoke in unison.

– That patient – the one I told you about, – Ahu appeared in the doorway – Bahar examined her, ran tests, and is waiting for results to start surgery. She came with Cagla, – she explained why Bahar was even at the hospital.

– Bahar would try to save both babies and the mother, – Doruk ran his hands through his hair. – She’d figure out something, Professor Rengin. You have to do something! – He was nearly tearing his hair out. – She saved Siren and Uraz’s children — she has to save these ones too. She has to save everyone. We all need a miracle!

– Calm down, Doruk! – Evren snapped, already turning to leave the office.

He needed to find out who this patient was. He needed to be near Bahar—to hear her, to understand why she’d made this decision. And even when others doubted her, he trusted her choice immediately… maybe because it was Bahar. He turned, almost stepping through the door.

– Professor Evren, – Rengin looked at him sharply. – Prepare me a report on the last operation you performed. Sorry — we have work to do. You have a choice to make, – she shoved her hands into her coat pockets. – And…

– I remember. I’ll do it, – he immediately caught the unspoken meaning behind her hesitation.

Rengin left the office with Doruk and Ahu, leaving Evren alone. He watched them go, standing in silence. Life continued outside the chief physician’s office. Out there was Bahar. There were patients. There were other doctors. They were all together. And he was just… beside them.

While Bahar made impossibly difficult decisions, he just stood there. And he felt it — more sharply than ever — how much he himself was widening the gap between him and the rest. A position that once felt natural, even comfortable… now it felt suffocating.

He didn’t want to be just an observer anymore. He didn’t want to be just a guest. Not while they were becoming a family — a working family. And he was being left behind. Further and further…

To be continued...