Aniya was about to leave for the airport, and Sarah insisted on seeing her off.
"I'll be safe, Sarah, but I'm not sure about you. What if you get lost again?" Aniya laughed softly.
"Shut up," Sarah said.
"I'll go to the library straight from the airport," Aniya added.
They left the apartment and booked a cab.
"I'll miss you," Aniya hugged Sarah.
"I won't," Sarah teased.
"I know," Aniya said, slapping her shoulder lightly.
"Don't wander around unnecessarily, Sarah, and charge your phone before leaving," Aniya reminded her again.
"I will. Go now," Sarah hugged her one last time.
After Aniya's flight, Sarah went to the library a little early. She placed her things on the table and grabbed a soda can.
"You're early," she heard a voice as she struggled to open the can. It was Mehmet.
"I came straight from the airport, so I didn't notice the time," she said, placing the can back on the table.
He approached, opened the can, and set it back in front of her.
"Your shift starts at 4 sharp," he said and walked to his office. He emphasized 'sharp', making it clear he didn't want her coming early or late. She looked at the can and took a sip.
She edited the document and emailed it to him, avoiding another office visit. As she was about to leave, Eric approached.
"If you need anything, just ping me," he smiled.
"Thanks, Eric," Sarah said, bowing her head slightly.
Kerman stood up from his desk and cleared his throat.
"All of you, be careful at night. Lock your doors and windows," Kerman said before leaving. His tone sounded odd—like it was his voice, but someone else's words.
Sarah and Eric smiled at him.
"Want me to drop you?" Eric asked.
"No, I'm fine. Thanks," she replied softly.
She walked back to her apartment, already missing Aniya. When they were together, their apartment felt alive with chaos. Now, the chaos was still. The kitchen was empty.
She wasn't hungry, so she made coffee and went to sleep.
One Week Later
"When?" a man asked on the phone.
"Day after tomorrow, maybe," a voice replied.
"And listen—keep my warnings in mind."
"Don't worry. Just another day, and then..." The call ended.
________________________________________
"Sir, I've edited all the files. Anything else?" Sarah asked as she entered Mehmet's office.
"Yes. The swan cover. I was thinking of changing the title," he said.
"Why? The name already fits the vibe," Sarah said.
"I don't just need vibes. There are other factors," he said, lifting his gaze from the laptop to her.
"But I liked the first one— 'Swan's Silence' " she said.
"Miss Sarah, it's not about your choice," he frowned.
"Okay. Let me know what title you want. I'll edit it," Sarah replied.
He nodded, and she turned to leave when he stopped her.
"When is Aniya coming back?" he asked.
"In about 20 days, I guess," she said. He nodded, and she left.
________________________________________
The Next Day
Sarah left the apartment in the same black dress she wore at Tayyep's home, with jhumkas and the scarf—the one Mehmet had kept in his drawer. She hesitated before wearing it but brushed off her thoughts and decided to take it.
"Miss Sarah, the cover?" Mehmet entered the library and asked without looking at her.
"I'm editing it, sir. Just five more minutes," she replied. He left without another word.
"You look pretty," Abdullah said.
"I know," Sarah laughed, teasing him.
"You look very, very 'ew' ," he shot back, and Sarah laughed again.
Mehmet paused in the hallway at the sound of her laughter.
Ten minutes later, she knocked on his door.
"Come in," his voice called.
She entered and handed him the laptop. Their hands brushed accidentally, and he pulled his hand away. He looked at her for a moment, his gaze lingering at the scarf and jhumkas then he looked away.
"You can go," he said, focusing on the laptop.
"Sir, can I stay here for an hour?" she asked.
"Why?"
"I was reading a book and wanted to finish it."
"You can take it home," he said.
"But you said—"
"Take it. Just don't use highlighters," he said casually.
"Thanks, Mehmet sir," she said and left.
Huh...
You'll kill me someday, lady—with your eyes or maybe another paperweight....
His lips twitched into a faint smile.
She left the library at 8 PM. Mehmet had left early. She walked to a café for coffee when a black sedan pulled up beside her. At first, she thought it was Mehmet.
A man rolled down the window.
"Miss Sarah?"
She nodded.
"Mehmet sir sent me. He wants to talk to you and Eric at a restaurant," the man said.
"Let me ask him," Sarah said, calling Mehmet.
He didn't pick up.
"Miss..." The man opened the back door.
Her instincts wavered between refusal and trust. Slowly, against the warning pounding in her chest, she slid inside.
The leather seats were cold against her palms. She dialed Eric this time. His phone was off.
"Which restaurant?" she asked.
The driver didn't reply. His partner in the passenger seat exchanged a glance with him, subtle but chilling.
Sarah's throat tightened. "Excuse me, I asked you something."
"Sit quiet," the driver snapped, his tone stripped of politeness.
A jolt of fear shot through her. She reached for her phone again, typing quickly:
I don't know where I am…
She typed another message.
Before she could hit send, the man in the passenger seat snatched the phone, his grip rough on her wrist.
"Give it back!" she hissed, struggling.
"Enough!" He shoved her back into the seat. The car sped faster now, streets growing unfamiliar.
Her chest heaved. She kicked at the seat in front of her, clawed at the door handle, but the locks clicked down.
"Where are you taking me?" she shouted, her voice breaking. "Answer me!"
Silence.
The man pulled a small spray canister from his pocket. Sarah's eyes widened. She tried to twist away, but he caught her chin in an iron grip.
"No—don't—"
The sharp chemical burned her eyes, her lungs. She coughed, thrashed, her fists striking his arm, his chest—her strength nothing against his.
The city lights outside blurred, doubled, then faded. Her body betrayed her. Her last frantic thought screamed through her: Mehmet, please…
Darkness swallowed her whole.
When Sarah stirred again, her head throbbed. The world swayed around her. Rough hands dragged her across concrete, her shoes scraping the floor. A damp, metallic scent filled her nose—rust, oil, dust.
She forced her eyes open. A dim warehouse loomed around her, shadows stretching tall against broken walls. Somewhere, water dripped steadily, each drop echoing like a countdown.
"Let me go!" she cried, twisting. Her voice cracked, but she thrashed harder.
The man hauling her only laughed. "Quiet, girl."
He threw her into a chair, rope biting into her wrists as they tied her down.
Her pulse thundered. Every instinct screamed danger now—not the staged kind, but real, suffocating danger.
"You won't leave, Sarah," one sneered, gripping her face roughly.
She glared back through tears, her voice hoarse but fierce. "Mehmet will kill you."
The man smirked, leaning closer. "Your Mehmet won't even find you."