After my father and Mr. Tarık left, Alara and I locked eyes.
"If you want, you can move your room to the one next door. Now that you'll be working on this floor, you'll be on the same level as your father. He won't have to come downstairs to see you anymore."
After Alara went to her room, I went down to the servants' quarters and started packing my belongings. It took me half a day. She had given me time until she finished moving. Just as I was about to step out, my eyes caught a crack on the wall—one that had been there for years. My father saw me like that crack on the wall: old, ignored, maybe tolerated... But it was time to say goodbye even to that crack. I closed the door one last time and headed upstairs.
As I climbed the stairs, the guards at the top stopped me just as I was about to enter the upper floor.
"Only authorized personnel are allowed. This area is restricted."
"I'm one of the staff now. I've just been assigned to this floor. Why are you making it difficult, gentlemen?"
"We haven't been informed. Please don't cause trouble."
Just then, Alara must have heard the voices. She stepped out of her room and approached us.
"What's going on here, gentlemen? What's all this noise?"
"Ma'am, he tried to force his way up. Claims he's been assigned here."
"He's telling the truth. He started working in my personal suite this morning. Now apologize and let him through."
It was the first time a noble had stood up for me. She even scolded them.
"He's standing there with his suitcase. In fact, Alpay—put his things in the room next to mine," she said. A real dressing-down.
I turned to the guards.
"We've shared meals together, haven't we, gentlemen? What's this attitude now?"
Alara asked me not to be too hard on them. "They're only following orders. After your last stunt, they're being extra cautious," she added.
"Thank you for standing up for me, Ms. Alara."
"I did what I had to. After all, you're by my side now."
Yes... the jokes about class again. Her way of seeing from above.
"Are you ready? If so, I'll have breakfast brought to the room."
"I'm ready. But... why are you having breakfast in the room?"
"I don't feel like sitting at the family table today. And you can join me—it'll be a way to make up for cutting your hand."
"I'm coming, but there's no need for all this." I wanted to rip off my tie and shove it in my pocket.
As we walked to the room, breakfast was already arriving. While we sat at the table, Alara broke the silence first.
"Why did you lie to your father yesterday?" she asked directly. I wasn't surprised—if anything, I'd expected her to ask sooner.
"I wasn't supposed to be there. It's forbidden to enter the upper floor without permission. And… I wanted to protect you."
"Interesting way of protecting someone," she said with a mocking tone. Then she paused, eyes lowered to her plate.
"Still… after what we talked about last night, lying to your father like that this morning... it felt odd."
I didn't respond. I kept mashing my eggs. I even asked if she wanted some. The suit and tie were choking me. I wanted to tear them off. But I couldn't. I simply loosened the tie a bit.
"Anyway," she said with a slight smile. "You don't have to wear a suit anymore. Dress however you like. After all, you work beside me now."
I set my fork down. That sentence had hit a nerve. My tone sharpened.
"So all that's changed is the outfit? Nothing else? We're still servants—just dressed in finer fabrics."
Alara looked up—startled, defensive.
"That's not what I meant. I just wanted to make you feel more comfortable."
I narrowed my eyes at her.
"It's easy to speak comfortably from the upper floors. The voices below are always muffled."
She pretended not to hear that. Trying to steer the conversation elsewhere:
"Let's go out today. Show me around a bit. I'm still freshly returned from Germany."
Her offer helped pull me away from the tension. I thought for a few seconds. Then nodded.
"Alright. Let me show you the real world."
I took off the tie and unbuttoned my shirt's collar. It helped me breathe a little easier.
"Thanks for the outfit freedom. If you'll excuse me, I'll clear the table."
She was slightly annoyed by my tone but didn't say anything.
Hours later, we left the mansion. I first took her to the seaside fish market. The shouts of the fishermen, kids splashing in the mud, the clatter of carts... it was all like a new symphony for Alara. She seemed to enjoy the real world.
"How can people be happy with this?" she asked.
"With their lives," I said. "With what's real."
I bought a simit from a street vendor. Handed over the money. It was probably the first time a noble saw a servant pay for her.
"This simit might be tastier than any waffle brought to your table, Ms. Alara."
"But it's not gourmet. And what about hygiene?"
"These hands might not be clean with soap, but they're clean with labor. And that's worth more than a thousand chefs."
We sat on a bench. Alara grew silent as she watched a little girl play. Her hair was messy, her dress dirty—but she was laughing.
"She has nothing… yet she smiles," Alara murmured.
"Because the most valuable thing she has is freedom," I said, looking to the sky.
A quiet moment passed. Then Alara spoke again.
"I don't know your story. But I see now—you want to change things."
I sighed. "Not just one thing. Everything."
"I just… I don't want my fate written by someone else's hands. That's all."
Alara stayed silent. Later, we got in the car and drove around some more. As evening approached, we returned to the mansion. I walked her to her room. At the door, she said:
"Thanks for today. It's the first time I've felt free. Save my number. Yours is already in my file."
Again, that gap between classes. I didn't want this life anymore. Even my father was trying to escape this servitude. And what was I doing?
"Sure thing, boss. As you command."
Alara frowned.
"Please don't call me 'boss lady' again."
I nodded silently and went to my room. I shut the door hard, took off my shirt, changed clothes, and sat at the desk. I picked up the paper and began writing:
"You were right, Father.
I'm someone entirely different—maybe like Uncle, maybe like no one else. But I'm not this. You taught me that there's honor in servitude. That kneeling, staying silent, and loyalty were virtues. And I believed you.
But I overheard your conversation with Mr. Tarık. Your words… the side you've taken—it no longer matches what you preached. You glorified servitude, but now, in your master's shadow, you're playing a different game. To me, that's betrayal. To yourself, to me, to our past.
Maybe I'm the one who's wrong. Maybe time will prove you right. But I've decided to break the chain. Uncle's path… is now mine.
Forgive me."**
Just as I folded the letter and put it in my pocket, my father entered the room.
"How was your day, son?"
"I'm trying to get used to it," I muttered. He talked for a bit more, then left.
I sat in the dark room for a long time. As midnight neared, I slipped out of the mansion one last time. I reached the dock with slow steps. The boat's light was on. Caner was there, smoking.
"I knew you'd come," he said.
"Maybe I should turn back. My father… Alara… it's all too much."
Caner shook his head.
"You've already made your choice, my friend. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here."
I said nothing. Sat down at the edge. Caner reached into his pocket for another cigarette. He was out. Went into the boat to grab one.
"Maybe we should give up, Caner."
"It's too late, Alpay," he said, returning with an envelope.
"Thank you for coming. There's no turning back now."
I froze. My eyes darted to Caner. "What do you mean?"
A black car screeched to a stop beside us. Two men jumped out, pulling sacks over our heads.
Darkness. Silence. One more step… into the unknown.