Gönül Hanım’s insistence and Kerem’s pressure of “Come on, Selin, fresh air will do you good” had worked. Selin went out the mansion’s garden gate wearing her thick cardigan, with Murat’s favorite old wool scarf around her neck. Kerem walked beside her cheerfully, while Murat accompanied them like a shadow on Selin’s left side, in his usual distant but protective stance.
“The weather is really nice,” Selin said, with the cold but crisp air filling her lungs.
Kerem took a step closer to Selin and wanted to link arms. “I told you so. Look, your cheeks already have color.”
The moment Kerem’s hand reached for Selin’s arm, Murat’s eyes narrowed. Murat moved right in front of Kerem and lightly “blew” a single pebble on the path, just enough to align with the tip of Kerem’s shoe.
In the middl
