KEREM'S CONFESSION
It was late at night. Selin had fallen asleep. Mert was sitting in the kitchen, a cup of cold coffee in front of him, Istanbul beyond the window. Kerem came in. Coat over his arm, keys in hand — he had been on the verge of leaving, but stopped before reaching the door. He looked at Mert. Mert looked at him. "Sit for a minute," said Mert. Kerem hung his coat on the back of a chair and sat across from him. Neither spoke for a while. The silence was not uncomfortable; it was the silence of two men who had lived side by side for months, who had fought side by side. "I need to tell you something," said Kerem. His voice was quieter than usual. "Go ahead." Kerem looked at the table. He laced his fingers together, opened them, laced them again. "I knew from the very first day. I mean — I sen
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