Gianna's POV
I'd been in Istanbul for almost two months, and the truth was, the novelty of "escaping" had become much more real and, at times, quite lonely. Winter was starting to creep in over the Bosphorus, and the wind blowing from the strait stung my face. I had to go out in three layers of clothing and climb those steep hills of Beyoğlu at a snail's pace.
"Dışarıda çok soğuk (It's freezing out there)," Mr. Malik told me one morning as I was wiping down the entrance to the bookstore.
"Evet (Yes)," I replied, rubbing my hands together to warm them up. "But I like it, I don't know. The air feels cleaner."
Actually, I liked it because in the cold, people go about their business: heads down, scarves pulled up to their noses, and walking briskly. Nobody was paying attention to anyone, a
