A strange chill spread through me. I stared at him blankly and repeated his words like an idiot.
"What do you mean you can't reach Kerem?"
He sighed, dragged a hand over his face, then leaned back.
"He was supposed to meet us here after he left your place. He didn't show up. And his phone has been off since yesterday."
Remembering how he looked before our fight made me tense even more. I'd known he was chasing something, but after all the effort he'd put into keeping his friends from worrying, disappearing out of nowhere didn't feel like a good sign.
And there was something else that didn't add up.
I could understand why I might think something happened, because I had some idea what he was involved in.
But why were they in full alarm mode this fast?
He was a grown man. His phone had been off for less than a day.
In a situation like that, shouldn't their first instinct be the classic explanations? Maybe he wanted to be alone because he was angry. Maybe he went somewhere to clear his head. Maybe he was with one of those overly clingy girls from his orbit!
There were so many normal options. So why were they jumping straight to disaster?
"Do you have any idea where he could be, Duru?"
The memory of that night at the bar—how close he'd been with one of the girls—made my brows knit without permission. Rüzgar must've noticed, because his question snapped me out of it, and I shifted uncomfortably.
"He was at least as angry as I was when he left," I said. "But I can't claim I know him well enough to predict where he goes when he's like that. Either way, I don't understand why you're making this so big. He could be staying at another friend's place. He could've wanted distance to calm down. His phone battery could've died while doing any of that. Or he could've turned it off on purpose so nobody would bother him. What I'm saying is, when you have that many normal options, why are you choosing to believe something bad happened so quickly?"
"What are you two hiding?"
I froze.
He was watching me carefully, eyes fixed on my face, and I had no idea which part of what I'd said had triggered his suspicion.
But that one sudden question made something painfully clear.
If Kerem didn't come back soon, things were going to get messier for me than they were for him.
"And what makes you think we're hiding something?" I asked.
"If you could get into that house, then there has to be a bond between you that wouldn't break after only a few weeks," he said calmly. "If it isn't romantic, then there's something else behind it. Something only the two of you know."
The way he read us like an open book made me realize two things.
First: unlike the others, Rüzgar had never believed the boyfriend-girlfriend act Kerem and I were putting on. He just played along, waited patiently, and watched to see what would come out of it.
Second: he wasn't just smart—he was observant.
And that, unfortunately, reminded me of Feyza.
Feyza was just as good at watching people. If someone like her had known you long enough, catching you in a lie only took one small mistake.
In short, if you had close friends that careful, keeping secrets turned into a real headache.
And with Kerem nowhere to be found, that headache had landed on me.
The worst part about being alone was the risk that if I answered wrong, I'd make everything worse. But if I stayed silent, I'd only confirm Rüzgar's suspicions.
The best option was to do neither.
Keeping my composure with effort, I replied with an annoyed expression.
"We're not hiding anything, Rüzgar. Like every other normal couple, we liked each other, we dated, and when we couldn't make it work, we broke up. Whatever happened during that process is between Kerem and me."
If something happened to that Hotshot now—if it hadn't already—my life was officially going to turn into a disaster.
"Whose idea was the breakup?"
There was absolutely something behind that question. He wasn't asking out of curiosity. He was testing me.
The safest choice was a political answer that stayed close to the truth.
"It wasn't just me or just him. We fought, and he left."
The memory of last night made irritation flare again, and in that moment Rüzgar stood up.
"I hope you know what you're doing."
The way he said it made it clear he didn't fully believe me. But it also implied he was letting it go—for now.
Once he left the room, I stayed seated, unmoving, for a while. Before going back out there to act again, I needed time to gather myself.
Leaning back, I tried to evaluate the situation.
Like the others, my biggest problem was not knowing where Kerem was. With his phone off, calling was pointless. And if their worry was for nothing—if nothing had happened—then after everything I'd said yesterday, calling him today would only prove him right.
On the other hand…
If something had happened, then every second I lost by not telling his friends the truth was working against us.
The tension that thought created made me mutter a curse under my breath as I tugged at my hair.
This was exactly what I'd tried to warn him about when he stood in front of me with that ridiculous fake-couple idea.
That arrogant confidence of his, how he always acted like everything was under control!
I let out a frustrated breath. Before standing up, I fixed my hair, which I'd messed up by yanking at it in irritation.
In the situation I was in, I had no choice but to trust Kerem's intelligence and his ability to protect himself.
When I left the study and closed the door behind me, the first thing I noticed was how deeply silent the house had become.
With heavy steps, I walked toward the group of four sitting in the middle of the large living room, all of them sunk into dark thoughts. I scanned each face one by one.
And then I noticed something else.