I zipped up my dress and reached for the phone on the bed. My friend was wondering when I'd be ready. After replying to Aylin, I reluctantly sat down at the vanity.
New Year's Eve had finally arrived.
In the mood I was in, that day wasn't any different from the rest of the year for me—but it mattered to Feyza. And for her, I had to do what I could.
As I applied moisturizer, I studied my pale reflection in the mirror and sighed unhappily. The tired eyes shadowed by dark circles made one thing clear: I'd need heavy makeup to hide how worn out I looked.
When I finished, I put on the jewelry I'd set aside and stood up. After checking myself in the full-length mirror and deciding I looked good enough for the night, I grabbed my bag and mask from the bed and turned off the bedroom light.
As if I hadn't been living in the dark ever since that day anyway…
I walked down the apartment stairs with calm steps and a smile that had nothing to do with happiness. I still couldn't stand the idea of getting into an elevator.
In the thin heels I wasn't used to—and had no intention of getting used to—I kept repeating every prayer I knew so I wouldn't fall and snap my neck. At this rate, by the time I reached the ground floor, I'd be glowing with holy light.
When I finally stepped outside the building, I let out a tired breath. Thinking about the long night ahead, I immediately regretted not bringing my fluffy house slippers.
After a few boring minutes, the car Feyza's family had sent—complete with their driver—pulled up in front of the garden gate. Aylin walked out of the building and joined me at the same time.
We linked arms to support each other and got in. The two of them went straight into cheek kisses and greetings, while I acted like none of it concerned me and kicked my shoes off, shoving them aside. When I heard the girls giggle, I turned the deadly glare I'd been giving the shoes on them.
"Don't laugh. I'm already tense. In these shoes, I feel like my life is constantly in danger. What kind of heels are these?"
"The shoes aren't even the worst part," Aylin complained, adjusting her dress with a grimace. "This dress is killing me. Strapless? On me? My skin's going to peel off from tugging it up all night."
I looked down at my own dress with the same defeated expression. Mine wasn't strapless, but the fabric was so stiff and tight—nothing like anything I'd ever worn—that even breathing felt like an accomplishment, let alone moving.
If you asked me, using this as military armor would make more sense than calling it a dress.
And the worst part? Each of these horrifying dresses—designed by Feyza's mother, Mrs. Serpil—cost more than three months of my rent.
If it were up to Aylin and me, we'd never pay that kind of money for something like this. But no money had been involved at all. Mrs. Serpil had practically forced custom dresses on us.
The moment she heard we'd be attending the party, she'd acted like she'd been waiting for this chance for years and excitedly called all three of us to her atelier for fittings. And for Feyza's sake, we'd gone to every single one.
I could still feel the sting of every pin that had stabbed into me during those cursed fittings.
Feyza laughed at our miserable faces and nudged me.
"Come on, tell us your plan already. I've been dying for two weeks!"
When I grinned and shook my head, she turned to Aylin.
"Be honest, Teresa. She didn't tell you anything either, did she?"
"Nope. I tried everything and couldn't get a word out of her. This girl's stubbornness is enough to drive you insane. Little goat."
My smile froze for a split second. I forced it back before they could notice.
"You waited two weeks. You can survive two more hours."
They shot me irritated looks and then started guessing between themselves what my plan could be. I sighed and turned my face to the window.
It was hard enough not thinking about what happened when there was nothing reminding me of him—so why did something always happen that dragged him right back into my head?
Every jab he'd ever made about my stubbornness echoed in my ears, and I sighed again. Then I remembered his friends, and guilt settled heavily on my chest.
After our conversation, I'd started avoiding them too. The others didn't seem as affected, but I knew Nil was hurting—almost as much as I was.
More than once, I'd wanted to go to her, telling myself she didn't deserve any of this and that the real blame belonged to that devil. But every time, I stopped. I knew it would only invite more trouble.
The disappointment in Nil's eyes was so obvious that I could barely meet her gaze. But could I blame her? Absolutely not.
Since she didn't know the reason behind my behavior, to her I was just another girl who'd used her to get closer to her friends.
And that was the part I couldn't stand.
I turned when I felt a hand on my arm.
"You spaced out again. What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing. It's not important."
"Don't give me that, Duru. We know you well enough to know it's never 'nothing.' You've been like this for two weeks. I know you're thinking about Kerem. Even though we're your closest friends, you won't tell us what he did or what he said to hurt you like this."
I sighed and gave her a small smile.
"I really wasn't thinking about him, Sapphire. I was thinking about my family. I haven't seen any of them in so long."
She must've realized pushing wouldn't work, because she sighed and nodded.
"If you say so… Still, I wish you'd tell us about the Kerem thing. Whatever happened, it clearly hurt you. We're worried."
They were worried—I could see it on both their faces. But I needed a little more time. The truth had to come out the right way.
So I put a mischievous smile on my face to lighten the mood and winked.
"Forget me. Worry about your future groom candidate. He's about to have the most traumatic New Year's Eve of his life."
Aylin laughed and shook her head.
"I don't know what's going to happen, but I already feel sorry for the guy."
"Duru?"
"Don't bother, Sapphire. I'm not saying a word."
She narrowed her eyes, fake-angry.
"Have I ever told you how much I hate that stubborn side of yours?" Then, still protesting, she added, "Fine—at least tell me this. Is anyone going to get hurt?"
"Don't worry. By the end of the night, everyone will still be alive."
Maybe it was too early to say that—but at that moment, I had no idea what was about to happen.