Chapter Text
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Someone shouts.
Injections pierce her skin.
Voices call out her name.
She tries to answer, but it is in vain.
Fadime wants to believe that letting go would be easy. Yet even in that state of nothingness, she feels immense pain. The idea of surrender is tempting, but it aches too much.
She cannot leave her brother alone, not when they are each other’s only family. She cannot leave without knowing if Eleni is alright.
She cannot leave.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
In and out of consciousness, Fadime does not know how much time has passed, or whether it has passed at all. The next time she opens her eyes, the pain is still there.
A soft groan slips from her lips, stirring the man beside her.
Adil looks like a wreck. His eyes are swollen with unshed tears, worry carved deep into his face. It feels as though he has aged years since the accident.
“Fadime.” He strokes her hair gently, as if even the slightest touch might break her. “Fadime. Oh God. Thank God you opened your eyes.”
“Abi.” She tries to reach for his hand, but pain shoots down her shoulder and she winces.
“Don’t move.” He quickly takes her hand instead, warmth seeping into her cold fingers. “You had an accident. A bad one.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, avoiding his gaze. “I scared you, didn’t I?”
Adil clicks his tongue, anger flashing across his face. “Why are you apologising? I would go to hell and back to bring justice to whoever did this to you. You are my sister, Fadime. My soul. My life. I cannot bear losing you.”
“No, Abi.” She gathers what little strength she has. “It was my fault. The roads were icy, the car slipped, and then Eleni, oh my God.” Her blood runs cold. “Where is Eleni? Is she alright? Is she hurt?”
I cannot tell him the truth, not yet, not now.
“Fadime, calm down. She is okay.” His eyes travel over her bruised and battered body. “You protected her. You covered her during the crash. She is fine. Not a scratch.”
Relief floods her chest and she whispers a prayer of thanks.
“Is it bad?” she asks after a moment. “Am I so hurt that you cannot look at me without crying?”
“Fadime.” He shakes his head. “Too soon for jokes.”
She raises an eyebrow, waiting.
Adil sighs, rubbing the crease between his brows. “Ruptured spleen. Three broken ribs. A fractured arm. And cuts and bruises everywhere.”
“Shit.” She lets out a weak whistle. “That explains why it feels like I barely escaped death.”
“Fadime.” His tone sharpens.
“Fine, fine. I will not talk about it anymore.” She manages a small smile. “You look terrible too. Were you in an accident as well?”
A reluctant laugh escapes him, and she joins in until the pain in her abdomen forces her to stop.
“I want you to rest, kiddo. There is a long line of people waiting to see you, but I made them promise that they would only take a minute each.”
She lifts his hand just enough to press a gentle kiss to his knuckles. A promise. A reassurance. A silent vow that they will be okay.
Adil leaves her alone in the daunting room with squeaky white tiles, the too clean air, and the irritating machine that keeps beeping.
Ya Sabar, she thinks.
The door opens. Her heart skips, hoping to see a pair of familiar eyes but it is not who she wants.
“Fadime.” Eleni rushes to her, ignoring the wires and machines. “Thank God you are alive.”
“Aye, aye.” Fadime melts into the embrace, then groans. “You are hurting me, little one.”
“Sorry.” Eleni jumps back, smiling sheepishly. “How are you? Are you in pain? Wait. That is a stupid question.”
“I have been better.” Fadime sticks out her tongue. “I am loaded with painkillers, so it is manageable.”
“That is good.” Eleni whispers another quick prayer. “You saved me. I cannot thank you enough.”
“Eleni.” Her tone turns stern. “We are family. Of course I would save you.”
They smile at each other, but Fadime’s expression soon shifts.
“Did you tell anyone about the accident?” Her eyes search Eleni’s face. “About the brakes?”
“No. Not yet.” Eleni shakes her head. “We were too busy worrying about you. Adil said we would deal with the accident later. He mentioned something about delivering justice.”
“Do not.” Fadime’s voice cuts through her. “Please. Do not tell anyone. For my sake. I cannot explain right now, but please do not tell Abi or Iso. Do not tell anyone.”
“Okay.” Eleni squeezes her hand. “I will not say anything for now. But you were hurt badly. Adil will not let this go.”
I know, Fadime thinks. That is exactly why the truth must stay hidden.
The moment the brakes failed, she knew someone had tampered with Iso’s car. It did not take long to realise who hated Iso the most.
Stupid, jealous Eyuphan.
She does not care about him. Not after he tampered with the brakes, intending to hurt Iso and instead hurting her and Eleni. But he is family. And she cares deeply for Uncle Amirum. She will not bring that kind of shame upon him.
Her body begins to ache again, dragging her away from those thoughts.
“I will go now,” Eleni says. “Rest properly. Otherwise I will not keep my promise.”
Fadime curses herself for teaching Eleni her own stubborn ways. The girl used to be too sweet but corrupting her a little had felt right.
She closes her eyes, hissing as her ribs protest.
The door opens again. She pretends to be asleep, though her heart flutters.
What took you so long? She almost says but she recognises the footsteps.
It is not Iso.
“Are you pretending to sleep so you do not have to look at me?” Esme teases as she settles on the stool beside the bed.
“Why would I do that?” Fadime blinks innocently.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better than before,” she grimaces. “But if one more person asks me that, I might try to get up and run away.”
“I would like to see that.” Esme laughs softly. “Your brother is guarding the door. You are not escaping.”
“Abi.” She sighs. “Did I make him cry?”
“Fadime, you made all of us cry.” Esme cradles her hand gently. “You were in the snow too long. Lips blue. Skin cold. Eleni said your pulse was barely there. And the blood.” She swallows. “Nothing else matters now. Just get better.”
“Alright. Forget I asked.”
A knock interrupts them.
“That is probably Adil,” Esme says sheepishly. “My time is up.”
Barely ten seconds pass before Gezep storms in, eyes red, beard unkempt.
“You look terrible,” Fadime jokes weakly.
He raises a finger. “No. Adil warned me about your tricks. I will not fall for your charm. I will not ask how you feel. You look terrible, so I assume you feel worse. Before you woke up, I wanted to kill whoever did this. Now I just want you to recover. Nothing else matters.”
Tears slip from her closed eyes.
“Do not make me cry too,” he mutters, shielding his face. “Ilve is waiting outside. She will scold me if I stay too long.”
“Fadime, my sweet Fadime.” Ilve rushes in as he leaves. “How are you, love? Do you need anything?”
“I am alright,” Fadime says honestly. “I feel terrible, but I feel loved.”
Ilve kisses her cheek. “Our Fadime became so soft after getting married.”
Married.
The word sobers her instantly.
She is married. Yet her husband has not come.
So many have already visited. So many still wait outside. And still, the one person she longs to see has not stepped through that door.
And that hurts her more than the broken ribs.