A moment — and the silence shattered. Evren froze on the threshold, his eyes scanning the three of them before stopping on Bahar. He immediately noticed the tension in her posture, the anxious look, the shallow breathing. He was about to go to her, but a sigh by the window stopped him. Instead of words or a smile, anger flooded him in an instant. Evren clenched his jaw — even here, in their bedroom, they couldn’t be alone.

— I… — Evren began, but fell silent.

Bahar sat on the bed, still unable to believe what the test had shown. The world seemed to shift by a millimeter. A millimeter between life and the abyss. Her fingers, clutching the test in her pocket, trembled. Bahar didn’t know what Rengin felt and involuntarily looked at her. She stood by the window, pressing a hand to her cheek. Bahar was seized by such fear that she couldn’t say a word — all she could do was breathe.

Çagla pushed herself up on the bed and looked at Evren. She touched Bahar’s back, and it was as if Bahar came back to life. With a shiver, she stood up and walked to the door. She passed him, and he followed.

Voices, clinking dishes, children’s laughter came from every corner. The house seemed to live on its own, leaving them not even a millimeter of space for the two of them. They stopped near the staircase. Catching her breath, Bahar gripped the railing.

— Are you angry? — she asked without turning, fighting a sudden wave of nausea and a sharp pain in her stomach.

— Do I have a reason not to be angry? — his voice was low, heavy.

— Evren… — she coughed, closing her eyes for a moment, trying to remember if she had eaten anything that morning.

— Bahar, — he came closer, whispering in her ear, — I can’t even walk into our bedroom anymore — there are strangers in there!

— Rengin and Çagla? — she repeated. — Strangers?

— In our bedroom, Bahar, — he said again. — Or is it not our place anymore? Seems like anyone can be beside you, except me, — he snapped.

— And were you beside me when I needed you? — she turned to him.

— You’re bringing up America again? — he hissed through his teeth.

Bahar stepped down one stair.

— I want to know — when you’re silent, why are you silent? — she asked quietly. — It’s the same with Meryem Özkan.

— What’s unclear about it? — he followed right behind her and almost bumped into her when she turned. — Meryem Özkan is my aunt, and she abandoned me and my sister. She didn’t come back when my mother died. Do you seriously think I want to see her? The one who cut me out of her life?

Bahar sighed but didn’t answer. Evren stepped closer, and between them space closed again, filled with all the things left unsaid over the past few days.

— You didn’t let me say a word, — he whispered, his breath brushing her lips. — Not after the appointment, not after Meryem Özkan.

— Because you decided everything on your own, — Bahar whispered, clinging to his hand. — And you kept silent.

— I didn’t want you to find out that way, — Evren said, holding her steady. — But that doesn’t mean I shut you out.

— And I didn’t want to scream, — she almost leaned her head against his shoulder, lowering her gaze. — I just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

— Are we going to keep hurting each other like this? — he asked as they slowly began to descend the stairs.

— I don’t know. Maybe, — she exhaled, — until one of us finally stops first.

— I didn’t know you’d call Meryem, — Evren said, still holding her hand.

— Because I’m a doctor, — she swallowed hard. — And because she’s my patient, Evren.

— And also — she’s my aunt, — there was pain in his voice.

— That’s exactly what I wanted to talk about, — she breathed out, stopping and turning to him. — Evren, — Bahar whispered softly, — thank you. For Mert, — her fingers tightened around his hand.

— That… — he frowned slightly, not understanding at first, — there’s nothing to thank me for. Anyone would’ve done the same.

— No, not anyone, — her voice trembled. — You saved my grandson.

— That’s not what’s on my mind right now, — he cut her off.

— Then what is? — Bahar wished so much that he would just hold her, calm her, heal her fear. But she couldn’t tell him yet — she needed to be sure first.

— Us, — he said simply. — Us — and the way you look at me. As if I’m a stranger again.

She didn’t answer. She only looked down, hiding the new spasm in her stomach, biting her lip.

***

— No apologies are needed, Nevra, — Ismail’s soft voice came from the living room.

— But everything’s ruined, — she said coyly. — This day, this lunch…

— A day is not a disaster, — Ismail replied. — And you’re not a mistake.

Bahar listened to them like to distant music — quiet, almost invisible. She wished she and Evren could have that too — a space where they could simply talk. But the whole house seemed already filled with other people’s voices, other people’s excuses, other people’s forgiveness. Evren stood beside her, looking at her.

— Is this how it’s going to be? — he asked.

— I don’t know, — she answered. — Maybe until we learn not to speak all at once.

— I tried to apologize, — Evren said.

— And I tried to understand, — she whispered. — But neither of us seems to manage.

She wanted to add something more, but the words stuck in her throat. Suddenly Bahar felt a heavy pressure under her ribs; her breathing turned thick and shallow.

— Bahar, — Evren gripped her elbow tighter as he saw her pale. — What’s wrong?

— I’m fine, — she stepped back. — Just tired, — she went ahead of him.

Evren followed a step behind. Bahar wanted to go on, but her words drowned in the soft glow of the floor lamp, in the quiet laughter and other people’s gestures.

Nevra stood a step away from Ismail, facing him, her shoulder resting against the wall as if she had found herself a small island. She toyed with the curtain. He stood beside her, almost motionless — tall, steady, the kind of man whose very breathing seemed a deliberate act.

— Turn around, — she asked softly, her fingers brushing the collar of his shirt.

— Not necessary, — he replied without looking.

— It is, — Nevra adjusted the collar, ran her hand over his shoulder. — You always look like you’re heading to a board meeting — neat, precise, and careless all at once.

Ismail smiled faintly but said nothing.

— It’s so noisy here, — she continued casually. — This family…, — she hesitated, but it was already too late, — it always ruins everything, — she had to finish. — I mean… not everyone. It’s just… hard to think here.

— Do you need to think? — Ismail asked calmly, stepping close.

— Sometimes you do, — Nevra lowered her gaze, allowed herself a small, accidental smile. — Just to be near, — she said, stepping back as if to widen the space between them — but in truth only to see if he would follow.

He didn’t, but he didn’t turn away either. The silence between them stretched like a tightened string.

Bahar stopped by the doorway, Evren behind her, his hand steadying her arm. They watched, unwilling witnesses. Nevra and Ismail stood in the corner of the living room, away from the general noise, in a small patch of light.

— Now you look like a man again, not someone who escaped a meeting, — Nevra whispered, licking her lips.

— I did escape, — Ismail said. — From the meeting, from the talk, from the shouting, — he paused for a moment, his eyes dropping to her lips. — You’re not feeling well here? — he asked. — I can take you away.

— Just like that? — she arched a brow. — No rings, no wedding?

Bahar flinched; Evren tensed. She was about to intervene, but Evren stopped her with a slight shake of his head. Ismail’s smile deepened.

— I never said where I’d take you, — he said evenly. — Maybe just somewhere quieter.

— What if it becomes too quiet, — Nevra replied, — and you realize you miss the chaos?

— Without you — yes, — he answered simply.

Nevra blushed, looked away as if studying a fold in his sleeve, and her fingers found his collar again, as if to make sure everything was in its place.

— There, — she whispered. — Now it’s perfect. Now you look like a man again, not the storm of surgeons.

— And you — like a woman who shouldn’t be left here alone, — Ismail replied calmly.

Nevra laughed — bright, ringing — but quickly caught herself.

— Without noise and scandal, I’m afraid you’d run away in two days, — she said with a laugh.

— Without you — I would, — he answered.

They didn’t notice Bahar and Evren by the stairs. Bahar was the first to blush — the glances, the soft laughter, the touches — everything too vivid, too intimate. She lowered her eyes, then looked up again, ready to step forward.

— Maybe we should tell them, — she whispered.

Evren squeezed her elbow, stopping her.

— Better not, — he murmured.

Bahar wanted to protest — that there were children around, that the house was full, that Nevra, as always, had no sense of measure — but he gently steered her toward the kitchen, and a moment later they stepped into the corridor, filled with the smell of coffee and fresh bread.

— To the kitchen, — he said quietly.

Evren led her there — to the one place where they could still talk without meeting anyone’s eyes. Inside her, everything went off rhythm: nausea, strange heat, cold hands. Evren’s words came through the noise in her head like through water. He was saying something, but she couldn’t focus. Pregnant. She was pregnant… and what if it was ectopic again, what if something went wrong… what if, like Ayşe, her body failed her… and then there was Nevra and Ismail… and Rengin. And Çağla. The children, the grandchildren. Evren, Yusuf. Bahar felt as if all the air had left her lungs.

Evren barely looked at her, but his fingers brushed her skin, and for the first time she reacted so sharply to his touch. All the feelings she’d been trying to contain mixed together — guilt, irritation, fear, resentment — and somewhere deep under her heart, a strange trembling.

— Evren, — she wanted to say something, to explain herself, while thinking only one thing — just don’t let him realize yet that another life has begun inside me.

***

And then there were her mother and Reha… the two she hadn’t thought about at all.

Bahar and Evren stopped on the kitchen threshold. Gülçiçek moved as if her haste could drown out her thoughts. She set the kettle on the stove. Reha stood by the refrigerator.

— You’re worrying about everyone again, — he said gently. — Sit down for a minute, will you?

— No one’s even eaten, — she said, pulling teacups from the cupboard for no reason. — Everyone should sit together. Like a family.

— They’ve all scattered, — Reha chuckled. — You can’t arrest them.

Bahar was about to step inside, but when she saw Reha reach toward Gülçiçek, she stopped. Evren held her back, not letting her interfere. Bahar spread her hands in confusion. Evren just shook his head. Reha tried to take Gülçiçek by the wrist, but she slipped away.

— You only ever joke, — Gülçiçek said irritably. — I’m serious, Reha. Everyone in this house is locked in their own world, and I… I’m tired of these separate plates, these conversations through walls. I’ve had enough, — she slammed the empty glass on the table. — And Mert.

Reha stepped closer.

— Then look at me, — he said quietly. — I’m your family, Gülçiçek.

— Perfect timing! — she tried to walk past him, but he slipped an arm around her waist — gentle, without pressure.

Bahar instinctively leaned back, bumping into Evren’s chest. His hand came to rest on her stomach. He drew her closer… and her breath caught. She saw nothing, heard nothing. She stared at his hand — beneath it, a new life was beating… proof of their love, the very embodiment of it. Bahar no longer understood what was happening in the kitchen — all her senses were heightened to the edge. Evren. Her. Their child.

— I was just waiting for you to stop arguing with the kettle, — Reha whispered in Gülçiçek’s ear. — We’re newlyweds, remember?

She wanted to pull away, but instead leaned back against him, as if she too needed a brief rest from the chaos of the day.

— Newlyweds… — she repeated with a wry smile. — With dishes, kids, grandkids, and hospital reports?

— I don’t care, — he kissed her temple. — You’re the most beautiful mistress of chaos.

— Don’t start, — her eyes darkened, but she pushed his hands away. — Better tell me honestly… what was between you and Meryem Özkan?

Evren had almost led Bahar out when he heard Gülçiçek’s words. He froze, tense. His hand pressed harder against Bahar’s stomach; he didn’t notice her sharp intake of breath, the tremor that ran through her body, the sweat beading on her forehead. Nor did he feel her cold fingers clutching his hand. He listened, strained, to the muted argument in the kitchen.

— You again? — Reha straightened, frowning. — We worked together.

— You’re a terrible liar, Reha, — Gülçiçek said, grabbing a towel.

— I’m tired of explaining myself, — his tone hardened. — Meryem was my colleague.

They stood too close, face to face.

— So that’s all? — Gülçiçek whispered. — Just a colleague?

— What do you want me to say to make you believe me? — he asked wearily. — That I was a fool not to notice how you looked at me even when you were angry? That I’m alive only here, with you, in this kitchen? What do you want to hear from me, Gülçiçek?

She wanted to say the truth, but Reha stopped her with an embrace. She leaned into him, eyes closed.

— I don’t understand what you’re afraid of, — she whispered.

— Maybe because I’m ashamed, — the words slipped from Reha’s lips.

Gülçiçek opened her eyes, lifted her head, looked into his. Reha sighed and bent toward her — almost kissed her.

— Let’s go, — came Evren’s whisper; he seemed to wake up, realizing they shouldn’t be there.

Reha and Gülçiçek jumped apart. They both turned toward Evren and Bahar. Gülçiçek flushed; Reha straightened his shirt. Bahar blinked, catching her breath when Evren finally lifted his hand from her stomach. She focused on Gülçiçek, then on Reha — confused by their embarrassment, embarrassed herself. She didn’t understand why Gülçiçek was waving the towel like trying to chase Reha away.

— Sorry, — Bahar said quickly and pulled Evren back into the hallway.

— See? — Gülçiçek swung the towel as if to hit Reha. — Even the universe is shaming us.

— Let it, — Reha laughed. — We’re alive, Gülçiçek. Still alive, — he sounded pleased. — Well, now everyone knows who the most passionate man in this house is, — he added in a conspiratorial whisper, barely holding back laughter.

Gülçiçek froze for a moment, then smacked him hard on the shoulder with the towel.

— You shameless man! — she hissed. — Shame on my head! What will they think of us now?

— That we’re alive, — he said, grinning like a boy. — And that I’m married to a woman with a surgeon’s precision — ow, — Reha feigned rubbing his shoulder.

Gülçiçek turned away, but her lips curved into a smile. Pressing her hands to her burning cheeks, she faced him again.

— Alive? — she repeated. — Wonderful, — she muttered, stepping toward him. — Now the whole house will think we were… doing something indecent in here.

— Let them, — Reha stepped closer. — At least now they’ll believe I’m still a man, not a museum relic.

— Hush! — Gülçiçek scolded, swatting him again with the towel. — Shame on us at our age, — she backed toward the table, but couldn’t stop smiling. — They’ll think I’ve gone mad for you.

— We’re not old! — Reha protested, moving toward her. — And maybe you have gone mad… but from love for me. We both have, — he nodded. — Once in a lifetime’s allowed. Why not now?

Gülçiçek tried to look stern, but her breath was uneven.

— Reha, step back, — she whispered, swinging the towel as if it could save her. — You’re impossible. Caught red-handed and still pleased with yourself.

Reha braced his hands on the table, leaning closer.

— Because now they know I can still love, — he whispered. — You!

— What am I going to do with you, — she murmured, then laughed softly, turning away as if giving up.

He brushed her cheek gently, and she didn’t pull back — only sighed.

— Go sit down, — Gülçiçek muttered. — Before I remember I promised you peace.

— Too late, — he whispered in her ear. — Peace is canceled.

She shook her head, still smiling through her embarrassment, lightly hitting his back with the towel again.

***

— We can’t even have a conversation in this house, — Evren snapped, his eyes drilling into her back.

— We’re doctors, Evren, — Bahar replied wearily, pulling him toward the front door. — There’s never silence for us. — She stopped by the door. — Honestly, — she shook her head, — I’m ready to give up, — she whispered, refusing to believe they’d ever find a place to talk.

— Don’t you dare, — he stepped closer, and she instantly backed away, afraid of touching him, afraid of feeling all those things that always rose up in her whenever he came too close. — Or I’ll grab a towel too.

— You think everyone will be scared of you with a towel? — she whispered back.

— I was trying to explain, — Evren suddenly realized he needed to talk — that there was no other way in this house. — The appointment wasn’t my idea.

— But you knew! Sert Kaya told you the decision, — her voice trembled. — And you said nothing!

— Because I knew you’d lose it, — he hissed back.

— And did it not occur to you that I had a right to know? — Bahar shot back.

— I thought you’d dig your heels in, — Evren replied. — And I was right.

Her eyes suddenly burned; the wave of hurt was so strong she couldn’t hold back her tears.

— Evren, I… — Bahar turned to him, not hiding the tears that filled her eyes.

— What’s wrong? — he asked quickly, alarmed. — You’re not crying about this, are you? — Evren faltered. — Bahar?

— Just don’t ask, — she whispered, not wanting to lie to him.

— What are you hiding from me? — he tensed.

— You talk like I’m always hiding something! — she snapped.

She grabbed the door handle.

— I just wanted to talk, — Evren burst out. — Without the OR, without an audience, without those… towels in the kitchen! — he gestured sharply toward it.

They both fell silent, staring at each other, breathing in sync.

— You’re nervous, — Evren said quietly.

— And you’re annoying me, — Bahar admitted.

Evren wanted to say something but pressed his lips together instead. Helplessness flickered in his eyes.

— I can’t even talk to you calmly, — he exhaled. — There are people everywhere. Everywhere…

— Because you always pick the wrong time, — she replied.

Bahar pressed the handle and pushed the door open.

***

Soft laughter reached them. Bahar and Evren exchanged a look. Yusuf was holding a jug of juice and a glass, while Umay, laughing, was reaching for them as if trying to snatch them away.

— I’ll pour it myself! — she protested.

— You already spilled one, — Yusuf chuckled, keeping the glass out of reach.

— Because you stuck your elbow out! — she tried to grab it.

— And you’re like a tornado, — Yusuf replied, and she playfully shoved his shoulder, still laughing.

He stepped back, almost tripping, but she caught his hand — and for a moment they were too close. The laughter faded. They stared at each other, breathing hard.

Bahar’s breath hitched; her hand went to her chest. She slowly tilted her head, glanced at Evren.

— Umay, — this time Evren didn’t manage to stop her.

Hearing Bahar’s voice, Umay and Yusuf jumped apart as if caught in the act.

— We were just… — Umay stammered, looking down.

— Juice, — Yusuf said quickly, holding up the glass. — Just vitamins. Before lunch.

Bahar looked from one to the other, then at Evren. He only raised his eyebrows. She looked at him silently, but her eyes screamed — seriously? First Cem! Now this?!

— Of course, — Evren muttered irritably, ignoring her silent reproach. — Who else could we bump into? — he shot her a look. — Just Siren and Uraz left, and the full family council will be complete.

Bahar closed her eyes, breathing heavily. She couldn’t make sense of anything anymore, said nothing — just fought against a violent wave of nausea, trying not to give herself away, barely staying on her feet. Umay gave an awkward laugh. Yusuf set the jug and glass down on the table, confused.

— See? — Evren whispered. — Everyone’s against us. Even the universe is against our privacy.

Bahar’s eyes snapped open.

— The universe just can’t stand you, — she shot back, pouring all her frustration into the words.

Because it was his fault — her nausea, the dizziness, the twisting pain in her stomach. And Yusuf — Yusuf could even be his son. In silence, she blamed him for everything: that her mother and Reha had taken over the kitchen, that Nevra and Ismail were hiding in the living room. Evren was about to answer when he suddenly noticed how pale she’d gone. Instinctively, he reached out, steadying her.

— Bahar? — he frowned.

— I’m fine, — she waved him off, regaining balance. — Just nerves. We’re having such a calm day, right, Evren? A weekend, just like you wanted!

— Oh yes, so calm we can’t even have a single conversation! — he said heatedly.

Bahar looked at him — not angrily this time. The anger suddenly dissolved, and she wanted to hug him. She glanced at Yusuf… and her heart tightened. What if he was his son? Already grown.

— Then go talk, — Bahar whispered, almost pushing Evren toward Yusuf. — You wanted family — here it is, in all its glory, — she patted his shoulder. — And check the meat, will you? Maybe it’s still alive enough for dinner.

— Are you sure anyone’s even going to sit at the table? — Evren frowned, unable to keep up with her sudden shift in tone. — And the meat — it’s already overcooked.

— You’re a doctor, — Bahar said calmly. — Resuscitate it.

— You’re being unfair, — Evren murmured, glancing toward Yusuf.

— I am unfair, Evren, — Bahar replied. — I’m just a woman who’s simply run out of patience today, — she stepped back into the house, swallowed hard through a sharp spasm in her stomach, and didn’t let it show. — Now go and at least talk to him, — she said softly. — Umay, — Bahar called her daughter and disappeared into the house.

***

Bahar stopped as soon as she entered the hallway. Her hands were trembling. The air felt so thick it was hard to breathe — one breath, then another. She steadied herself against the wall, took a few steps, swallowed hard, and closed her eyes, fighting off the wave of nausea. Why now? Why not yesterday or the day before? She couldn’t understand why everything had to crash down on her today.

— Mom, what’s wrong? — Umay looked at her with concern.

— I’m fine, — Bahar answered without opening her eyes, trying to keep her voice even, though it was softer than usual. — Just… tired. I’ll be right back, — she exhaled, opened her eyes, and quickly made her way to the guest bathroom.

She shut the door and winced at the brightness. Bahar stepped forward, bracing her hands on the counter. Trying to pull herself together, she leaned over the sink and turned on the tap. Cold water hit her palms, and she splashed it over her face.

— A baby, — she whispered, meeting her own reflection in the mirror.

Her breath hitched, and there was no point in hiding anymore — no one was around. She took a towel from the rack, patted her face dry, tossed it beside the sink, and pulled the test from her pocket — two bright lines. Pregnant.

She laid it next to the towel, bent closer, staring at the lines as if they might suddenly disappear.

— No… not this, — she whispered, feeling fear tighten around her throat.

Her heart was pounding so loudly it echoed in her ears.

What if it’s ectopic again? What if her liver can’t take it? What if it’s like Ayşe? What if something’s wrong with the baby…

One “what if” crushed into another, pressing down until her vision darkened. She grabbed the edge of the counter as the room swayed. The cold stream ran into the sink — that sound alone brought her back. She reached out, cupped her hand under the water, and splashed her face again. Her breathing was rough, desperate.

— Breathe, — she whispered to herself. — Calm… inhale… exhale…

Her heart thundered in her chest. A ringing filled her temples. The reflection in the mirror blurred, as if she were underwater. Bahar leaned forward, resting her forehead against the cool tile.

— Let everything be all right… please, let nothing happen… — she murmured and took another deep breath.

The steady trickle of water was the only sound keeping her conscious. Gradually, her breathing steadied. Bahar turned off the water but didn’t move. She just stared at the test lying beside the towel. Slowly, she straightened up and looked at her reflection — pale face, wet hair, but a spark of life in her eyes.

— You can handle this, — she whispered to the woman in the mirror. — You’ve done it before, and you’ll do it again.

The guest bathroom was the only quiet place left in the house. Bahar smiled faintly and turned off the faucet completely. The nausea had passed. Pressing her hands to her cheeks, she thought only one thing — she had to make sure everything was fine before she told Evren.

The door creaked open, making her flinch.

— Mom? — Umay peeked in. — Can I come in? — her voice trembled with indignation.

— Yes, — Bahar nodded quickly and slipped the test under the towel.

Umay practically burst into the bathroom.

— Mom! — Bahar looked at her daughter, instantly composing herself. — What happened?

— Grandma…, — Umay pointed toward the living room, — she’s in there with Mr. Ismail behind the curtains, they’re… — she trailed off.

— In the living room, — Bahar repeated, deciding it was best not to ask what exactly Nevra and Ismail were doing.

— You won’t believe it, and in the kitchen — — Umay waved her hands, trying to find words. — It looks like… dancing, Mom! Grandma and Reha! — she ran out of words to describe it.

— Dancing? — Bahar repeated softly, realizing her short reprieve was over. — Well, at least someone in this house is happy.

— Mom, it’s not just dancing! — Umay almost shouted.

— Oh no, — Bahar tried not to laugh.

— In the kitchen, Mom! Where we eat! — Umay emphasized dramatically.

— Don’t go on, — Bahar tried to stop her. — I can imagine.

— With a towel! — Umay blurted out, horrified. — That’s too much, Mom! One pair behind the curtains, another in the kitchen with a towel! What’s happening?! They’re our grandmothers!

A towel? Bahar remembered Evren mentioning a towel too — but what were they doing with it? She couldn’t recall anything except seeing it in her mother’s hands. Bahar sighed deeply, placed her hands on Umay’s shoulders, and turned her toward her.

— Umay, listen. Breathe, — she said calmly, though she could barely keep from laughing. — Everything’s under control.

— Under control?! — Umay stared at her, wide-eyed. — One couple’s kissing behind the curtains, the other’s practically doing a strip show in the kitchen — that’s what you call under control, Mom?!

As Umay spoke, Bahar’s eyes widened.

— Which is exactly why I need to go, — Bahar said evenly. — And you need to stay here. Wash your face. Breathe. Pretend you saw nothing.

— Nothing?! — Umay protested. — And what are you going to do?

— Save what’s left of everyone’s sanity, — Bahar couldn’t help but smile.

— And if they don’t stop? — Umay asked uncertainly.

— Then we’ll just turn the music up louder so the neighbors don’t hear, — Bahar slipped out of the bathroom.

Umay stared at the door, having no desire to leave. The silence in that bathroom still felt deceptive…

***

They didn’t need to lie to themselves — the meat was beyond saving. The air was cooling fast, the smell of roasted meat almost gone. Evren and Yusuf stood by the grill. The fire was out, but the coals still glowed faintly. Silence stretched between them until Evren finally broke it.

— You know, — he began quietly, — your mother was the best, — he kept his eyes on the glowing coals.

— The best? — Yusuf repeated. — She left me without a father, — he clenched his hands and lowered his head.

— She gave you life, — Evren stirred the coals. — She gave you a chance, — he paused, then added softly, — and she raised you on her own. — He glanced at him carefully. — Look at who you’ve become.

— I’m nobody, — Yusuf’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile. — If it weren’t for Bahar, I wouldn’t even be standing here.

— Bahar… yes, — Evren almost smiled. — She has a way of gathering those who’ve lost themselves, — he agreed, — but you’ve done a lot on your own.

— Don’t start, please, — Yusuf lifted his head. — Everything I have now — it’s them, — he looked straight into Evren’s eyes. — And now you say, “you’ve got us.” Who’s us? You and Professor Serhat? — Yusuf shook his head as if he couldn’t make sense of it. — What difference does that make? Serhat has Esra. You have Bahar, your own life, your own future. Everyone does. — His voice softened. — And I’m just… — he shrugged, — a coincidence, stuck between your stories.

Evren looked at him silently for a moment, then walked around the grill and came closer.

— No, — his voice roughened. — You’d fit into any life. Mine, or Serhat’s… — he cleared his throat. — We’ve all been broken, Yusuf. But you’re not a mistake, — he gripped his shoulder firmly. — You’re a miracle.

Yusuf turned away, blinking quickly, not wanting Evren to see the shine of tears in his eyes.

— Don’t call me a miracle, — he whispered. — I’m just a reminder of someone who’s gone.

— Or maybe, — Evren whispered back, — a reminder of what’s still here. — He stepped closer, watching Yusuf carefully. — I don’t know how to do this… — he admitted softly. — I don’t know what it means to be a father. — He tried to smile, but his lips trembled. — But I’d like to try. If you’ll let me. We can’t bring back the past, but we have the present. And maybe… a future.

Yusuf stared off for a long time.

— I’m sorry…, — he finally whispered, still not looking at him. — For what I said about Bahar that time in your office. I was… wrong.

Evren drew in a sharp breath, as if the words had struck him in the chest. He took a slow step closer — afraid to scare him off — and simply pulled him into an embrace. No words. No defenses. No rules or conditions.

Yusuf froze, tense in his arms, then slowly, awkwardly returned the hug. And in that moment, the silence became complete. Only their breathing could be heard — and somewhere deep within it, a steady, shared heartbeat, as if one for both.

— It doesn’t matter whose son you are, Yusuf, — Evren whispered. — What matters is that you’re here.

Yusuf nodded, keeping his head lowered, tightening his grip around him.

— I’m still scared, — he whispered barely audibly.

— Me too, — Evren admitted. — But maybe that’s where it all begins — with fear. That’s why, despite it, we stay.

They stood there, beside the dying coals, still holding on — realizing, perhaps for the first time, that fatherhood is a choice, and not always written in blood.

***

Oh, those blood ties and family bonds.

Bahar stopped for a moment, held her breath, and finally stepped into the living room. She didn’t see them right away — only when she remembered the curtains did she notice them. Ismail and Nevra were standing by the window behind the heavy drape, and even from the doorway Bahar could see Ismail holding Nevra’s hand.

— Someone might see us, — Nevra whispered.

— Let them be jealous, — Ismail laughed softly.

Bahar’s eyebrows arched, and she folded her arms across her chest.

— Excuse me, — Bahar said loudly, her tone entirely devoid of irony. — Are we interrupting? — she paused deliberately. — If we are, just say the word — I’ll send everyone outside and leave you the keys to the house.

Nevra straightened instantly. Ismail let go of her hand and pretended to be inspecting a vase.

— Bahar, it’s not what you think…, — Nevra stammered, stepping out from behind the curtain.

— I’m not thinking anything, — Bahar replied calmly. — I’m just seeing, — she added, listening for a moment. — And I can hear the music even through three walls, — she said, glancing toward the kitchen.

She headed straight in that direction, following the laughter and the rustle that mixed with a familiar melody. When she stepped into the kitchen, Bahar couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

Reha and Gülçiçek were spinning in a dance in the middle of the kitchen.

— Here’s our island, — Reha whispered, pointing at the towel lying on the floor. His shirt was half-unbuttoned, and Gülçiçek was trying to fasten the buttons as they danced. — And the lamp — that’s our sun, — he lifted his hand as if reaching for it. — Do you hear it, my love? The sea is calling us.

— That’s not the sea, — Gülçiçek swatted his shoulder. — That’s the kettle boiling.

— Still waves, my captain! — Reha declared proudly, leading her in the dance, holding her tightly by the waist.

— Tango on dry land? — Bahar giggled. — Or is this more of a cha-cha-cha?

Reha jumped like a boy, then dropped his hand onto his wife’s shoulder, keeping her close, not letting her move away.

— A rehearsal for Bodrum, — he grinned.

— I see, — Bahar raised an eyebrow. — Just remember, if you make it to Bodrum, you’ll need a doctor to accompany you. Someone has to keep an eye on your blood pressure, — she pointed at both of them.

Gülçiçek stifled a laugh, embarrassed, but Bahar had already turned — and her eyes met Nevra’s and Ismail’s.

— Perfect, — she said, folding her arms again. — The whole cast is here.

Everyone froze, staring at her as if waiting for a verdict.

— All right, — Bahar sighed, gathering herself. — Let’s skip the pleasantries. Professor Reha, you’re on my team. We’ll go over the details on Monday, — she stated matter-of-factly, then looked at Ismail. — Mr. Ismail, you’ll approve the proposal, won’t you?

Ismail glanced at Reha.

— Bahar, maybe now’s not the time? — he tried to deflect, spreading his hands.

— Now’s the perfect time, — Bahar wasn’t backing down. — Everyone’s alive, everyone’s cheerful — rare occasion, — she rubbed her temple. — And the case is rare too: a woman with an allergic reaction to her husband’s sperm. Immune incompatibility. Multiple early miscarriages.

Gülçiçek immediately stepped back as soon as medicine entered the conversation. Nevra, on the other hand, slipped her arm through Ismail’s.

— You’re going with the immune method? — Reha asked, clearing his throat and hurriedly buttoning his shirt.

— Yes. Complex protocols, — Bahar sighed. — I’m calling in Meryem Özkan.

— Meryem Özkan from the U.S.? — Ismail clarified. — Evren’s aunt?

— Exactly, — Bahar smiled faintly, though she didn’t feel like smiling at all. — And I need the board’s approval, Mr. Ismail.

— You’re playing the family card now? — Ismail raised an eyebrow, straightening his shoulders.

— I’m simply using my connections, — Bahar replied evenly. — You’re family now — more or less, aren’t you?

— Why more or less? — Ismail frowned at once.

— Well, unless you plan to propose to Nevra right now, — Bahar said pointedly, making it clear she’d overheard their conversation.

— Bahar! — Nevra exclaimed, blushing furiously.

— Why not? — Ismail squeezed her hand on his arm.

— A wedding, then?! — Gülçiçek joined in, laughing.

— You’ve had yours, — Nevra shot back playfully. — I want mine!

— Congratulations, Ismail, — Reha chimed in cheerfully.

— You’ll be my best man? — Ismail asked immediately.

— Wait, wait! — Nevra waved her hands. — He hasn’t even proposed yet!

— Oh, dear God, — Bahar pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes for a moment. — You all just love to test my patience, don’t you? — she shook her head. — Anyway, back to the proposal.

— Are you sure this is wise? — Reha coughed, instantly turning serious. — She’s Evren’s aunt, remember.

— And more importantly, — Ismail added, — Evren doesn’t want her to come.

— What are you afraid of, Reha? — Gülçiçek piped up. — That some woman from America will steal your attention?

— Should I be worried too? — Nevra teased, half-joking, half-serious.

— I think, — Bahar sighed, — all of you should just let me do my job, — she turned to Ismail. — So, will you approve my research proposal?

— I would, — Ismail said tensely, — if I were sure you weren’t acting out of emotion.

— Exactly, — Reha agreed. — You wouldn’t go against Evren, would you?

— I’m not going against Evren, — Bahar lifted her head sharply. — I’m talking about a patient! I’m a doctor! Doctor Bahar Özden, — she reminded them firmly.

The kitchen fell silent — just in time for Evren to walk in through the door. He stopped, looked at everyone carefully, and immediately moved to Bahar’s side. He didn’t like at all how Reha and Ismail were practically hovering over her.

— What’s going on here? — he asked, stepping up beside her, shoulder to shoulder.

— Nothing, — she tried to smile. — We’re just discussing my proposal.

Ismail’s eyebrows lifted slightly.

— Then tell me, Professor Evren Yalkın, — he said, folding his arms though Nevra still clung to one of them. — As chief physician… would you sign this proposal?

— Ismail, please, — Nevra whispered, sensing another storm brewing.

At that moment Siren appeared in the doorway. Seeing the tense standoff, she instinctively took a step back.

— Sorry… I think I came at a bad time… — she murmured, and disappeared down the hall.

Everyone’s eyes stayed on Evren — no one even noticed Siren’s brief appearance. Bahar stood beside him, unmoving. The silence seemed endless.

— Yes, — Evren finally said. — I’d sign it.

Bahar exhaled — she hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until that moment.

— She’s not a woman, — Ismail muttered under his breath. — She’s a walking earthquake.

Bahar took Evren’s hand and leaned into him.

— You can all go back to your hugs and dances now, but just remember — we have children and grandchildren in this house, — she said with a weary smile.

Gülçiçek and Nevra flushed bright red. Reha moved to stand beside his wife. Ismail looked at Nevra.

— We weren’t doing anything, really, — he tried to joke.

— Just dancing, — Reha added quickly.

— Dancing? Half-dressed, in front of everyone? — Bahar muttered into Evren’s shoulder, muffling her laugh.

Evren blinked, glancing from Reha to Ismail, then to Bahar — his expression said it all: What on earth did I just miss?

***

Umay knew she was missing everything while hiding out in the guest bathroom, but she still didn’t dare step outside. She tapped her foot nervously against the floor. When Siren came in, Umay immediately pounced.

— Well?! — she nearly shouted. — Did Mom send everyone away?

— Everyone? — Siren stared at her in confusion.

— Yes, everyone! — Umay paced back and forth in the small room. — Grandma and Ismail with their curtains. The other grandma and Reha with the towel! — she nodded furiously. — She’s probably sat them all down like schoolkids by now, and she’s acting like— — Umay threw up her hands. — Like she’s got it all under control!

— What? — Siren still couldn’t figure out what exactly Umay was upset about.

— What what?! — Umay snapped. — I don’t even know anymore who’s the adult and who’s the child here! They’re all acting like teenagers!

— Why are you so angry? — Siren touched her arm gently. — What happened? What’s wrong?

— You don’t understand! — Umay waved her hand sharply. — It’s just… everything! — she swatted at the towel, knocking it to the floor. — I can’t do this anymore! — her eyes glistened, and she bolted from the bathroom.

Siren blinked in confusion, then bent down and picked up the towel. She froze when she saw what had fallen onto the tiles — a pregnancy test with two clear lines. Siren’s eyes widened.

— Oh, Allah… — she whispered, staring at it. — Umay is pregnant?

— Siren, — the door flew open, and Uraz rushed in. — It’s not what you think, — he blurted out immediately.

Siren quickly wrapped the test back in the towel, clutching it tightly in her hands. Her breathing grew fast and shallow as she tried to process what she’d just seen.

— What do you mean, not what I think? — she whispered, not even looking at him.

— I didn’t say I don’t want to move, — Uraz began hastily. — I just said… we should wait.

— Wait?! — her voice rose, her breathing quickened, her eyes unfocused. — It’s too late to wait, Uraz! Too late!

— Too late? — he stammered. — Why too late?

— Because we can’t keep putting things off, Uraz. We can’t. — Her fingers loosened, and the towel slipped from her hands.

— Siren… I don’t understand what you want from me, — Uraz said helplessly.

— I don’t know what to do either, — she muttered, shoving past him and running out of the bathroom.

Uraz turned, but she was already gone. The door slammed shut, leaving him alone. He bent down, picked up the towel — and felt something hard inside. Unfolding it, he froze. His face went pale.

— Oh God… Siren? — he whispered, sinking to his knees, his back against the wall. — We’re barely managing with Mert and Leyla… and now this… — he stared at the positive test in disbelief. — No, no, no, no… — he muttered, refusing to accept it.

Uraz gripped the test in one hand and ran the other through his hair. His whole body trembled as he sat there, blending into the white walls of the bathroom…

***

Umay burst into the kitchen — and stopped short when she saw all the adults still there. She had believed her mother had already resolved everything. Her fists clenched.

— That’s it, I can’t do this anymore! — she snapped and turned to storm out.

— What’s wrong? — Bahar managed to catch her by the elbow.

— Nothing! It’s just… it’s always the same! — Umay pulled away. — Everyone’s shouting, everyone’s deciding everything — and I’m the only one who doesn’t matter!

— Umay, — Siren ran up to them.

— What’s going on? — Bahar asked quietly. — Did you two have a fight?

— No, — they both answered at once.

Bahar was about to hug her daughter when Ismail’s voice stopped her.

— Bahar, we need to finish this discussion, — he reminded her.

— We’ll talk later, all right? — she whispered softly. — Go upstairs, just… wait a bit, please.

Siren looked at Bahar in alarm, shaking her head slightly, trying to signal something, but Bahar didn’t seem to notice.

— Sure, I’ll wait. Maybe another ten years, — Umay burst out.

Siren’s eyes went wide. Umay spun around and ran out of the kitchen.

— Umay! — Siren shouted and rushed after her.

They almost collided with Rengin and Çağla coming down the stairs.

— Siren! — Uraz’s voice echoed from the hallway, and he dashed past Rengin and Çağla, chasing after his wife.

— Still, Bahar, the study is too risky, — Ismail continued seriously. — I insist it be suspended.

Evren finished his glass of water and stepped closer to Bahar.

— It gives a chance to a patient who has no other options, — she said at once, leaning lightly on his arm.

Bahar braced herself for a rush of emotion — but this time, she remained calm in his presence.

— Meryem Özkan is Evren’s relative, — Ismail said, his tone rigid. — That creates a conflict of interest.

— I don’t choose my relatives, — Bahar replied firmly. — I choose my patients.

— I’m talking not about choice, but about the hospital’s reputation, — he countered.

— Reputation doesn’t save lives, Mr. Ismail, — Bahar exhaled, feeling her temper rise, struggling to hold it back.

Evren must have sensed it — he wrapped his arm around her gently.

— I support her, — he said in a calm, steady voice.

— Professor, are you going against the board’s decision? — Ismail asked, surprised.

— I’m standing by a doctor’s professional judgment, — Evren answered, uncomfortable but resolute. — Bahar is right.

— That’s not in your best interest, Evren, — Reha muttered, earning a sharp elbow from his wife.

— Maybe not, — Evren admitted, — but it’s in the patient’s.

— Which is exactly why Bahar should lead this project, — Gülçiçek spoke up. — If not her, then who?

— Ismail just wants everything done by the book, — Nevra said sharply. — He’s responsible for the hospital!

— And Bahar’s responsible for the patients! — Gülçiçek shot back. — That’s not the same thing!

— Enough! — For the first time, Ismail raised his voice, lifting his hand as if to stop them all. — This isn’t a family drama, it’s a medical discussion. I’m asking you — all of you — to maintain decorum. Before the board. Before the press. Before the neighbors, for heaven’s sake!

The way he said it made it clear: order mattered more to him than truth. Bahar looked at Evren intently. He knew perfectly well what awaited him — becoming part of a system that stifled everything alive.

— Maintain decorum? — she repeated. — Fine. Just don’t forget — not everyone manages to keep their soul intact.

— Bahar, — Ismail adjusted his shirt cuffs, softening his tone. — Let’s postpone the decision until Monday. It’s a complex issue… and it concerns the family.

— It concerns a patient, — Bahar said firmly.

— Of course, — he nodded slightly. — But still, it involves Evren’s aunt — the new chief physician’s relative. You understand — rumors, insinuations… I’d rather no one thought this was a personal matter.

Evren tensed, ready to respond, but Bahar spoke first.

— Then decide professionally, — she said evenly. — Without personal bias.

— Still, I’d prefer to discuss it Monday, — Ismail said, neither agreeing nor refusing. — I don’t want to put Evren in an awkward position.

— Don’t turn Evren into a buffer between everyone, — Bahar flared up. — Half the hospital’s related anyway.

— The perfect role for a surgeon, — Ismail countered smoothly, — to reduce inflammation without making an incision.

A few quiet laughs broke the tension.

— Nevra, — Ismail turned to her, — you promised to show me that restaurant by the sea. Maybe now’s the perfect time?

— Now? — she looked at him, surprised. — After this evening?

— All the more reason, — he squeezed her hand. — Let the emotions cool with an ocean view.

— Why don’t we all go? — Reha looked at Gülçiçek. — We’ve earned dessert after this surgical council.

Gülçiçek raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

— Agreed, — Ismail nodded to Bahar and Evren, and he and Nevra left the kitchen.

Reha and Gülçiçek exchanged a glance and followed. Bahar remained standing beside Evren. Gülçiçek turned back, hugged Bahar lightly.

— Are you all right? — Bahar asked softly.

— I’m fine, — Gülçiçek smiled. — Don’t carry it all on your shoulders, — she whispered. — Even the sun sets sometimes, just to rest.

Bahar smiled faintly, knowing Ismail hadn’t actually relented — he’d merely delayed the inevitable decision.

***

Rengin and Çağla decided not to go into the kitchen. As soon as Ismail, Nevra, Gülçiçek, and Reha left the house, they headed that way — but ran straight into Evren and Bahar. Evren got distracted for just a moment by his phone, then started talking to Çağla, and Rengin, seizing the opportunity, immediately took Bahar by the arm.

— Bahar, — Rengin whispered. — We need to talk. Urgently.

Bahar nodded, and the two of them, trying not to draw attention, slipped quietly into the kitchen. The room was still, save for the ticking clock. Rengin leaned back against the wall, her fingers trembling.

— I don’t know what to do, — she whispered. — Bahar, I can’t go through this again. I’m… terrified. Really terrified. I’m not ready for another child.

Bahar studied her pale face.

— Rengin, that’s not fear, — Bahar kept glancing toward the door, anxious that someone might overhear them. — It’s just… you don’t believe yet that you can handle it.

— And do you? — Rengin shot back, too sharply. — Are you ready?

— I’m scared, — Bahar whispered. — Scared that something might be wrong, — she admitted softly. — That it’ll happen again, — she faltered. — What if it’s ectopic again?

— Bahar…, — Rengin stepped closer.

— I need to make sure the baby’s fine, — Bahar said, clutching her hand. — Only then will I tell Evren.

— And if everything’s not fine? — Rengin asked cautiously.

Bahar’s face changed.

— Then I’ll tell him anyway, — she whispered, — but later… when I can.

They both fell silent, breathing heavily.

— What should I do? — Rengin finally asked.

— Tell Serhat, — Bahar said quietly, still keeping one eye on the door to the living room.

— I can’t, — Rengin shook her head. — He’s waiting for news about his daughter.

— We keep postponing everything, — Bahar sighed. — Later, later, later… But life doesn’t wait.

Focused on the living room door, she completely forgot about the one leading to the garden. Yusuf slipped quietly into the kitchen, closing the door behind him.

— Bahar, I don’t even know how to tell him, — Rengin whispered. — He’s waiting for his daughter to survive, and now this… — she trailed off.

— I just need to be sure the baby’s okay, — Bahar exhaled. — I can’t bear it if something goes wrong again.

Yusuf froze at their words, stunned. His breath caught; his gaze darted between them. Bahar — pale, trembling; Rengin — nervously fidgeting with her blouse hem. His nose itched, and before he could stop it, he sneezed.

Both women turned sharply toward him.

— Yusuf, please, — Bahar rushed to him. — Not a word to anyone, — she pleaded.

— I wasn’t going to… I just… overheard… — he shrugged helplessly, looking between them. — So, wait — am I getting a brother or a sister?

Rengin lowered her eyes.

— First we need to figure out who your father is, — Bahar murmured.

Yusuf blinked, unsure whether to be angry or just let it go.

— You’re both just… panicking, — he decided finally.

— I’m not panicking, I just… — Bahar stumbled on her words. — I want an ultrasound. Right now.

— Wonderful, — Yusuf’s eyebrows rose. — Here we go.

— And I want to make sure the test was wrong, — Rengin added quickly. — It can be wrong, right? Tests make mistakes! — she looked at him hopefully.

— All right, — Yusuf said quietly. — Let’s breathe. We’ll wait till Monday, and then—

— What?! No! Now! — Bahar and Rengin hissed in unison, staring at him.

— Of course, — Yusuf sighed, closing his eyes. — Now.

— I can’t wait, — Bahar gripped his hand. — I need to know everything’s fine.

— And I need to know it’s not fine, — Rengin clutched his other hand, — because I’m not ready.

Both of them stared at him — two strong women, trembling with fear.

— Okay. We’re going, — Yusuf agreed, realizing he couldn’t leave them alone — though he had no idea how the three of them were going to sneak out of the house… especially past Evren.

— I can’t drive, — Rengin shook her head. — My hands are shaking.

— And I’m dizzy, — Bahar admitted.

— All right, — he said calmly. — Then I’ll drive.

— How do we get out? — Bahar finally voiced the question he’d been dreading.

— Quietly, — Yusuf pointed to the garden door. — We go outside. It’s the perfect cover right now, — he said, taking both women by the arms. — Breathe out. Don’t breathe like we’re in the OR. We’re just… walking.

— What if someone sees us? — Rengin asked nervously.

— We’ll think of something, — Yusuf pushed open the door, leading them out.

— Think of what? — Bahar asked.

Yusuf shrugged — he hadn’t figured that part out yet. They crept along the wall, glancing back to make sure no one was following.

— No one saw us, — Yusuf whispered with relief.

— Just like old times…, — Bahar smiled faintly. — Back then, we’d sneak out of shifts; now we’re sneaking out of our own house.

— Don’t say that, you’re making my heart race even more, — Rengin whispered.

They tiptoed toward the car.

— Everything’s spinning…, — Bahar steadied herself against the wall, gripping Yusuf’s arm.

— And my hands won’t stop shaking, — Rengin said, still holding his other hand. — I’m really not ready for another baby.

— And I’m not ready to lose one, — Bahar murmured, blinking away the darkness in her eyes.

— What if we just… don’t say anything yet? — Rengin suggested.

— What if it’s already too late? — Bahar asked quietly.

— What a fun little family adventure we’re having, — Yusuf muttered.

They were almost at the car when Evren stepped out of the house. He was looking at his phone, reading a message. The faint rustling caught his attention.

— Where do you think you’re going? — he called out, striding toward them.

Rengin, Bahar, and Yusuf froze and turned to him. He was closing in fast.

— For lemons, — Yusuf blurted loudly, stepping forward and gesturing wildly for them to stay quiet.

— What? — Evren stopped short, nearly stumbling.

— Bahar said we needed lemons, — Yusuf confirmed. — Urgently.

Evren stared at them suspiciously, the phone still buzzing in his hand.

— Lemons? Now? — he asked, clearly skeptical.

— Yep, — Yusuf nodded confidently, steering Bahar and Rengin toward the car. — Very… sour ones.

— All three of you? — Evren didn’t move closer. Just the word lemon made his stomach twist.

— We really need them, — Bahar added quickly. — The kind that make your teeth ache.

Evren instinctively took a step back. Bahar slowly retreated toward the car. He still looked puzzled, but his phone rang again — Doruk’s name flashing on the screen — and he had no choice but to answer.

— Fine, — Evren sighed. — I’m listening, — he said into the phone.

Yusuf slid into the driver’s seat, stunned that Evren had let them go so easily.

— Wow, — Bahar exhaled. — If it weren’t for that call… — she whispered. — But why lemons, Yusuf?

— First thing that came to mind, — Yusuf said, starting the engine. — I can’t stand them.

Bahar’s brows lifted slightly; she looked at him thoughtfully.

— Then you said exactly the right thing, — she smiled faintly.

Yusuf nodded and drove them out of the yard.

***

Evren stood in the yard, staring at the dinner table — though he didn’t really see it. His attention was entirely consumed by the call.

— Doruk, what’s so urgent? — he asked impatiently, realizing even as he spoke that the car had already pulled out of the driveway.

— A patient just came in, — Doruk said quickly. — Male, forty-five, acute liver failure.

— Go on, — Evren’s tone shifted immediately, sharp and focused.

— We’ve run the initial screening and found a donor match — a strong one — but I’m not sure whether to add him to the list, — Doruk spoke fast and clear. — The patient’s unstable. The risk is massive.

— Is the donor ready? — Evren asked.

— Yes, but we need board confirmation, — Doruk’s voice faded behind the distant noise of the hospital — the sound Evren suddenly realized he’d missed more than anything. — We can’t initiate the protocol without the chief surgeon’s signature.

— Where’s the patient now? — Evren was already walking toward the house.

— In the ER, — Doruk replied. — I’ve got him on monitoring, but we don’t have much time.

— Add him to the list. I’m on my way, — Evren said, stepping inside.

— But professor… without the committee’s decision… — Doruk hesitated.

— I am the committee, — Evren said firmly, grabbing the motorcycle keys from the table. — If we’re too late, there won’t be a decision to make.

He hung up and met Çağla’s curious eyes.

— Where is everyone? — she asked, coming out of the kitchen.

— Bahar went to get…, — Evren stopped short, even the word felt absurd, — lemons, — he finished reluctantly.

— So… are we actually going to sit down and eat? — Çağla asked hopefully.

— The table’s still set, — Evren gestured toward it, irritation slipping into his voice. — Though apparently, no one in this house feels like eating!

— You have no idea how hungry I am, — Çağla said, already grabbing a piece of cheese from the platter and popping it into her mouth with obvious delight.

Evren swallowed hard, realizing he hadn’t eaten anything himself — just that one mug of coffee Bahar had brought him. He slipped on his helmet. The headlights flared to life, and the motorcycle roared forward, tearing into the dark evening — toward the hospital, toward the patient, toward a decision he had made alone…

***

He was alone. Completely alone.

The dim glow of the phone reflected in Kamil’s eyes. On the table sat a mug of cold tea… and an empty chair across from him. He stared at the photo on the screen — Ayşe, smiling softly, her hand resting on her rounded belly. For a long time, Kamil just looked — and then, with trembling fingers, began to type.

My Ayşe. Twenty-four weeks.

We went to the hospital because the doctors said everything would be fine. That we’d get through it. That they would help. They kept saying it — until her liver failed. They kept saying it — until the baby died. They kept saying it — even when they didn’t remove the stillborn child. They kept saying it — until her heart stopped beating.

Kamil stopped. Read the message over and over… deleted it. Then started again.

Dr. Bahar Özden.

They said she was the best. But my wife died in her hands. Pregnant. Twenty-four weeks.

Eighteen months ago, Ayşe had a liver transplant, and we believed it was her second chance. We believed the doctors. And now they tell me, it happens.

It happens?

Does it “happen” that a pregnant woman dies in a hospital and no one even explains why?

I saw them delay. Wait. No one ran. No one tried to save her. They just stood there and watched.

He shut his eyes for a moment, breathing heavily. His fingers moved unevenly across the screen.

They told me — file a complaint. They told me — get a lawyer. But every lawyer says it’s medicine. A case. An accident. And I say — it was my wife. It was my Ayşe.

Kamil attached a photo — Ayşe by the sea, her rounded belly visible, her smile calm and serene — and added a caption: “So they won’t forget who they lost.”

He reread the text one last time, then pressed send.

The screen glowed for a few seconds longer, then dimmed and went dark.

Kamil lowered the phone and leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the empty seat across from him. He sat in darkness and silence… until his phone buzzed. Notifications began to pour in — one after another. Likes. Comments. Shares.

He scrolled through the words of strangers — people who had never known Ayşe:

Where’s their conscience?

How could they?

And finally — the word he had dreaded to see: “Murderer.”

Kamil dropped the phone onto the table, covered his face with his hands. The notifications kept coming, faster and faster.

— I just want… someone to answer. Someone, anyone… — he whispered, realizing that with every new like and repost, his post was spreading.

Across the city, in the hospital, Sert Kaya was already scrolling through his feed. A slow smile formed on his lips — the name Dr. Bahar Özden was beginning to appear on screens everywhere…

***

Tiny gnats danced before her eyes. Çağla waved them away, but dusk was falling, and the air grew thicker with them by the minute. She wrapped some cheese and greens in lavash, took a glass of water, and went inside.

On the sofa, in the corner of the living room, Parla sat hunched over her phone. Çağla hadn’t even taken a bite when footsteps thundered down the stairs. Umay appeared, spotted Çağla, and marched straight toward her.

— Where’s Mom? Where’s my mom?! — she demanded.

Çağla, caught mid-bite, opened her mouth to answer — but Siren rushed down the stairs before she could speak.

— Umay! — she called, practically flying toward them.

— Siren! — Uraz came barreling after her.

— Oh, stop following me! — Siren poked him in the chest. — Go to the kids! They should be awake by now.

— Come with me, — Uraz didn’t move.

— You’re their father, you’ll manage, — she said, turning back to Umay.

Meanwhile, Çağla calmly took a bite of her lavash. Parla didn’t look up, still typing on her phone. Siren tried to grab Umay by the hand, but just then Mert started crying upstairs. Siren turned to Uraz and pointed upward — and then Leyla’s wail joined in. Siren closed her eyes for a moment, sighed, and the two of them went back upstairs together.

Umay watched them go. Çağla sat down on the sofa. The house fell almost silent, except for the crying children — until Umay suddenly snapped.

— First Evren, — she began, — then Yusuf, and now his aunt! Who’s next? A nephew? The dog? — She waved her arms in frustration. — Evren Yalkın’s relatives are multiplying geometrically!

— If only you’d done your math this fast in school — not just family math, — Parla replied dryly.

— You think that’s funny?! — Umay turned on her. — Honestly, I’d rather it turned out Serhat was Yusuf’s father — at least there’d be fewer Yalkıns in the family!

— Why do you even care who his father is? — for the first time, Parla’s voice sounded tired.

— Of course I care! — Umay’s temper flared. — Because if Evren is his father, then that means my mom is… kind of… — she frowned.

— His stepmother? — Çağla took a sip of water.

— Exactly! — Umay threw up her hands. — And what does that make me? The daughter of the most complicated family tree in the world!

— So now you’re jealous too, — Çağla leaned back, folding her hands over her belly. — Wasn’t Uraz enough for drama? What’s gotten into you?

— I’m not jealous! — Umay’s voice rose. — It’s just… — she trailed off, then fell silent. — It’s just that before, everything was clear. Mom was mine. Now I can’t even walk into her bedroom — Evren’s there. Then there’s Yusuf. And the grandmas with their suitors and crazy stunts… — She flopped down next to Çağla. — And if Mom gets pregnant again, she’ll never have time for me!

— Umay, your mom’s not the kind of woman who gives up on anyone, — Çağla said softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. — Even when she’s struggling, she keeps everyone close.

— But tell me honestly, Çağla — it’s dangerous for her to get pregnant, isn’t it? — Umay’s voice dropped. — She’s not twenty anymore. And after what happened at the hospital… what if there are complications again?

— Stop listening to gossip and start trusting your mother, — Çağla said, gently rocking her side to side. — You see how strong she is.

— Strong, strong… — Parla suddenly shot up from the couch. — And what are the rest of us supposed to do while all the strong ones make every decision?

— What’s that supposed to mean? — Çağla turned toward her.

— Nothing, — Parla muttered, staring at her phone.

— Who’s texting you? — Umay asked suspiciously.

— No one, — Parla shoved the phone into her pocket.

— Cem? — Umay sprang to her feet. — It’s him again, isn’t it? Are you out of your mind? After everything he did?! — she shouted.

— Don’t start! — Parla snapped. — It’s not what you think!

— Girls! — Çağla didn’t even stand up. — Enough. Each of us is scared of something. I’m afraid of losing my baby, so please, — she placed both hands over her stomach, — don’t make me nervous by yelling, all right? There’s no one else home to save me or my child if something happens.

Umay pressed her lips together stubbornly. She was ready to fire another angry remark at Parla — but Çağla’s words seemed to reach her. She sat down beside her again.

— These adults live such loud lives, don’t they? — Çağla nudged Umay gently with her shoulder. — You can’t even catch your breath around them.

Umay closed her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. Her leg bounced restlessly against the carpet. Çağla laid a calming hand on her knee and sighed…

***

Yusuf exhaled, standing by the door. His pulse matched the faint hum of the ultrasound machine. Behind it, the light was low, the air heavy with quiet. On the exam table lay Bahar, eyes fixed on the ceiling. She had tried several times to glance at the monitor, but Rengin gently stopped her, moving the probe across her abdomen.

— The endometrium looks good, size matches the gestational age… — Rengin murmured, frowning slightly. — There’s a gestational sac, but the heartbeat isn’t visualized yet.

— Yet… — Bahar repeated quietly. — So, it might still… appear.

— It might, and it should. Everything’s fine, — Rengin whispered. — Congratulations, Bahar. You’re pregnant.

— Everything’s fine? — Bahar echoed, tears already spilling from her eyes. — Are you sure?

— Yes. About five or six weeks. It’s too early for a heartbeat. — Rengin squeezed her hand. — It’s all good.

Bahar covered her face with her hand. Her breathing hitched.

— Six, — Yusuf blurted out confidently.

— What? — Bahar shot up on the table, staring at him.

Yusuf turned bright red, pressing his back against the door.

— What did you just say? — Bahar demanded.

— I saw… — he mumbled.

— What did you see? — Bahar’s face changed, her mind racing to connect the dots.

Yusuf’s hands flew up helplessly.

— What, Yusuf?! — Bahar’s voice trembled.

— When Evren came downstairs in the middle of the night… before you two were even living together, — he stammered. — Six weeks ago.

Bahar closed her eyes and sighed.

— What do I do now? — she asked, turning to Rengin.

— Wait for the next ultrasound — and have faith, — Rengin whispered.

— I need to make sure everything’s okay before I tell Evren, — Bahar said, swinging her legs off the table.

— Bahar… it’s risky for you, — Rengin reminded softly.

— I know, — Bahar breathed, saying nothing more.

— All right, my turn, — Rengin said quickly.

They switched places. Yusuf slumped against the door, relieved to have escaped Bahar’s interrogation. He’d always thought Evren was the scary one — but Bahar, when angry, was something else entirely.

— Ready? — Bahar asked, gripping the probe, her hands trembling slightly.

— No, — Rengin shook her head.

— Too bad, — Bahar sighed.

The screen flickered to life. Bahar leaned in closer.

— Gestational sac clearly visible, — she whispered. — Rengin, you’re pregnant.

— No, — Rengin covered her face.

— Yes, — Bahar said gently.

— No mistakes? — Rengin asked, still clinging to a thread of hope.

— No mistakes, — Bahar confirmed, then turned sharply to Yusuf. — Well? What’s the gestational age?

— What? — Yusuf blinked.

— You seem to know everything, see everything. How far along is she? — Bahar pinned him with her eyes.

— Bahar… — Rengin reached for her hand. — I already know.

— No, let him say it, — Bahar insisted, tearing off her gloves.

— Maybe I should… just take blood, — Yusuf blurted suddenly, grabbing a pair of gloves.

— What? — Bahar and Rengin said in unison.

— For confirmation, — he muttered.

Bahar strode toward him.

— So the ultrasound’s not enough for you? You want blood too? — she said sharply. — You’re a doctor, Yusuf. Usually, it’s the other way around — blood first, then ultrasound.

— The test, — Yusuf blurted out.

— The test, — Bahar repeated, paling. — The test… — she reached into her pocket, eyes wide with dread.

Yusuf, seizing the moment, grabbed the vials — but before he could move, the door burst open. Evren, Serhat, and Doruk entered mid-conversation.

— I need to check cardiac and hepatic functions and— — Evren froze, staring at the three of them. — What… what are you all doing here? What’s going on, Bahar?! Lemons?!

— Someone, please explain, — Serhat said, tucking a patient chart under his arm.

Doruk peered around Evren’s shoulder, taking in the scene — Bahar pale, Rengin flushed, Yusuf standing with vials in his hands.

Rengin, quick-thinking, switched off the monitor.

Yusuf stepped forward, holding up the vials like evidence.

— They… they asked me to run a DNA test, — he stammered, looking from Evren to Serhat. — You both want to know who my father is, right?

Bahar exhaled behind him — a breath of sheer relief — and her hand landed on his shoulder.

— Ready for the DNA test? — Yusuf repeated, his voice gaining strength. — Right now… or never!