In the garden of the mansion, holding that photograph, time stopped for Mert. The image showed his son's incubator — and beside it, Arslan Soykan's crested ring, unmistakable as a signature. This was not merely a threat. It was an attack on the only real thing Mert had left in the world. He tried to reach Kerem; the phone rang into nothing. Kerem was still somewhere above the clouds, in a different life. Mert was alone at the gates of hell.
"Selin, go inside!" His voice cracked as he said it. Selin didn't understand what had happened, but she was already through the door before she could form a question. Mert was in the car before it shut behind her, the engine roaring like something that had been waiting to be let loose.
A Rehearsal for Catastrophe at the Hospital
He did not brake when
