Call of the past

Chapter One: Table Number 7 “Sally’s Taste” restaurant stood at the corner of a quiet street, like a last refuge against the frost of the outside world. It was not a luxurious place. It was small and warm, and it was always filled with the enchanting scent of freshly baked bread kneaded with love—a cheerful and mysterious aroma that had seeped into the old wooden walls until it became part of the restaurant’s identity. Outside, a wooden sign hung above the door, trembling slightly whenever the wind brushed against it. Painted by hand in soft, elegant yellow letters were two words: “Sally’s Taste.” This restaurant was all she owned. Her late father had built it through his own hard work, and she had opened it with what little pure money he had left her after his sudden death. Sally, who was twenty-eight years old, was the beating soul of the place. She was a young woman with delicate features, carrying in her eyes a strange mixture of deep kindness and lingering sorrow. Every afternoon, she could be seen standing behind the polished wooden counter, her hands covered in traces of white flour, her gentle smile welcoming the customers—a smile that warmed hearts while hiding behind it the ache of loss. Throughout her life, her father had been the center of her universe and everything she knew in this world. Her mother had died while she was still a baby in her cradle, so the only face she had ever opened her eyes to was her father’s gentle one. He was no ordinary man to the outside world. He was the legendary Dr. Alistair Finch, the renowned scientist whose research had filled exploration centers and elite universities. He had spent his entire life inside a vast and complex laboratory, studying animal behavior, the details of DNA, and the complicated equations of genetic hybridization. He was a genius in every sense of the word, trying to understand the souls of animals and develop their intelligence in order to narrow the distance between them and humans. His name was spoken with respect and awe in every scientific gathering. But to Sally, Dr. Finch was not a scientist wearing a cold white coat. He was simply “Dad.” He was the most loving and warm father in the universe. She remembered how he would return from his cold laboratory filled with machines, and the moment he saw her, he would cast aside his scientific dignity and embrace her so tightly that all his exhaustion seemed to disappear. Every night, he would sit beside her little bed, read her fairy tales in his warm voice, and stroke her hair while saying with a mysterious smile: “You are the greatest experiment of my life, Sally. You are the most beautiful success I have ever achieved.” He had been her only support, her little family, and her protector against the cruelty of life. Whenever he laughed, the entire house would fill with warmth and safety. But that safety shattered like fragile glass the previous year. Sally’s entire world collapsed when she received the news of his sudden death from a heart attack that had struck him inside his laboratory. She was left completely alone, facing the coldness of life without anyone to support her, until her cousin Ezel appeared in her life again and offered to marry her, to rebuild what had been broken—or so she thought. Ezel was twenty-seven years old, and he was the son of her late father’s brother. He worked as a veterinarian at a small clinic only two streets away from Sally’s restaurant. He was exceptionally skilled at his profession. He had remarkably gentle hands when dealing with sick animals; he knew how to calm a frightened horse or skillfully treat the wound of a small dog. But the strange contradiction lay in his nature. As kind as he was with animals, his heart was as cold as winter ice toward humans, especially toward his wife, Sally. Sally had loved Ezel since she was a little girl. She adored his calm, stern face, his serious eyes that held endless mystery, and his limitless dedication to saving the lives of animals. She married him because of that old childhood love, and because she sincerely believed that he would be the refuge, shelter, and umbrella that would protect her from the downpour of grief after the death of her loving father. But reality was disappointing. Ezel’s feelings toward Sally were flat and cold to the point of freezing. He was emotionally distant from her, with an invisible wall of indifference separating them. He spoke to her in brief words, as though speaking were a burdensome duty he was forced to perform. He rarely looked directly into her eyes, and he rarely smiled at her. Their family clearly believed that he had not married her out of love, but out of an obligation to his uncle’s final wish before his death—her father, Dr. Finch, who had made him swear that he would take care of Sally and never leave her alone. Ezel treated the stray cat that wandered into his clinic with warmth and care far greater than what he showed his wife and cousin, who devoted herself completely to pleasing him. On that rainy Tuesday afternoon, the clock showed three fifteen. Rain poured heavily outside as though the sky itself were crying, while the wind struck the storefronts with force. The restaurant was quiet and warm, with only a few regular customers inside. Suddenly, the little bell hanging above the door rang with a sharp metallic sound. Ring... ring. Ezel entered. He was wearing his green veterinary coat, carelessly folded over one arm, with drops of rain falling from his dark hair. His face carried the same cold, stern expression that never changed with the seasons. Sally was standing behind the counter, cleaning the dishes with her tired hands. The moment she saw him enter, her face lit up with a wide smile, and her eyes shone with pure love, forgetting all his coldness and indifference in an instant. “Ezel! You came!” she said in a voice filled with happiness and delight. Ezel gave a slight nod without even moving his lips into a smile. He walked with measured steps and sat on one of the high stools at the end of the counter, keeping a noticeable distance from her. “I had a short break between cases at the clinic. I thought I’d come here. How’s business today?” His voice was flat, devoid of any hint of interest or warmth, as though he were questioning a stranger. Sally’s smile faded slightly, and she felt a familiar stab in her heart. But she quickly swallowed the lump in her throat. She had grown accustomed to his coldness, and her love for him was still stronger than her pride. “It’s quiet today because of the storm and the rain outside. Are you hungry? I just made the hot mushroom soup you like...” “I’m not hungry,” he interrupted coldly, pulling his smartphone from his pocket and staring intently at the screen. “I only came to check on things. That’s all.” Sally looked toward the wooden counter, keeping her tears trapped behind her eyelids. She felt humiliated, but silence had always been her refuge. These were the details of their daily life: she gave him love and attention, while he met her with coldness and indifference. He was her cousin, her husband, and her partner in life in front of others, but he had never been the hero of her story or the knight of her dreams. The real hero had not yet appeared in her life. As Sally tried to start another conversation and Ezel answered her with brief, dry words, she turned her eyes to inspect the restaurant tables. She looked at Table Number 2, where an old man was sitting and reading his newspaper, then at Table Number 5, where two girls were drinking coffee... Then her eyes stopped, and her entire movement froze at Table Number 7. In the darkest and most distant corner of the restaurant, beneath the dim light of a lamp, a mysterious solitary man was sitting. He wore a long, dark gray coat soaked with rain and a wide-brimmed black hat pulled so low over his eyes that no one could see the details or features of his face. In front of him on the table sat a single cup of dark black coffee. He had never touched it, and it had grown completely cold with time. But the strange mystery was not in the man. It was in what was moving across the surface of Table Number 7. There was a squirrel. A real, living squirrel, with soft brown fur and a large, fluffy tail that swayed in a continuous, rhythmic motion. This squirrel was not normal at all. It was filled with extraordinary vitality, explosive energy, and movements unlike those of a wild animal. It looked alive to an excessive and unnatural degree, almost frighteningly so. It ran in remarkably fast and intelligent circles around the cold cup of coffee. It suddenly stopped, stood firmly on its tiny hind legs, and turned its head to look around the restaurant with small, shiny, piercing black eyes—eyes that seemed to think, analyze, and understand everything happening around it. It leaped with astonishing and perfect precision from the small sugar container to the edge of the table without missing a single step. It was excessively energetic, far too intelligent, as though it possessed complete human awareness. The other customers in the restaurant noticed the strange scene and began whispering and pointing their fingers toward the dark corner. Sally whispered softly, gripping the edge of Ezel’s shirt: “Ezel... look over there... Look at Table Number Seven... That’s a very strange squirrel...” Ezel turned very slowly. No sign of surprise appeared on his cold face, but his eyes, trained as a professional veterinarian, narrowed with sharp concentration. He stared deeply and began analyzing the small animal’s movements. As a veterinarian who dealt with animals every day, Ezel immediately realized that something was wrong, and that this creature was defying the laws of nature. “That squirrel...” Ezel spoke in his cold voice, but this time his tone carried deep professional interest. “Its coat is far too perfect. There isn’t a single damaged hair. Its energy level and nervous activity are unbelievably high. Its behavior, its circular movements, the way it stands and analyzes its surroundings... It displays an extraordinary ability to solve problems and comprehend things. This is not the behavior of an ordinary wild animal living in the forest. It has been... genetically enhanced and skillfully modified.”