6 - The Collector’s Treasure

Manolya’s POV

Pelin smirked, heaving her bag in with my help. “You two better not have forgotten anything this time.”

Adem scratched his neck, sheepish. “Uh, maybe my phone. Almost left it.”

“Toothbrush?” Pelin teased, arching a brow as rain dripped from her hood.

Adem and Adlee swapped a guilty look but stayed silent.

I laughed, piling into the car as Uncle Eren revved the engine.

He flashed us a grin, all charm and mischief, rain streaking his sunglasses. “Girl, you brought the whole circus! Was the trip okay?”

Adem leaned back, arms behind his head. “School’s a grind, but I dodged detention this year. Mom would’ve skinned me alive otherwise. You should have heard her yelling after talking to our teacher last term, apron on, phone still in her hand, ready to discipline us.”

I chuckled, a bittersweet feeling hitting me. Aunt Hava had been the glue in their family, and we all missed her. Hava and her husband, Cemal, were busy working at a hotel with tourism during the summer season, so they felt good about sending their kids, Pelin, Adem, and Adlee, to us during the summer.

The Mustang rolled into Akyaka’s oldest part, tires grating against wet cobblestones as rain poured onto the streets.

“I heard your dad’s been seeing that woman again—Bengü, was it?” Pelin asked, curiosity flickering in her tone. “Who is she, anyway?”

“She’s just Dad’s work associate,” I said quickly. “A real estate agent. Her office is next to his, so they see each other sometimes. Lunch meetings and stuff.”

“Oh,” Pelin said, glancing at me. “And how are things with your dad? Still stiff as ever?”

I rolled my eyes. “Tell me about it,” I sighed. “You know, I couldn’t wait to see you. It’s been so lonely in that house—just me, Ayla, and my cat, Aziz. Dad’s always busy with work. He barely talks to me anymore.”

Pelin’s voice softened. “I get it. He’s been different since your mom passed, hasn’t he?”

“Yeah,” I murmured, watching the rain smear across the window. “Different doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

“Also, I woke up in the middle of the night and found black goo smeared outside my window. Like, what the hell was it? My room’s on the second floor. Even the intruder alarm went off. I looked and even checked the cameras. Nothing showed up on the film. Like what was it? It had a really weird smell, like sulphur?”

Pelin looked back at me, crinkling her nose. “Black goo? Really? I mean, what could have caused that? It wasn’t bird poop then?” she said, giggling.

“Duh, no! At first I thought it was blood, but it didn’t smell like iron, more like a sulphury-smell? And it was black, not red or burgundy. So I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Hmm… I’ll have a look too. Maybe we can figure it out together later?”

We pulled up to a two-story Ottoman house, its stone-and-wood frame perfectly maintained, painted in a warm, earthy ochre. A tiny courtyard bloomed out front, dotted with potted plants and a trickling fountain, rain rippling its surface. I squinted up at the arched windows, a shiver of curiosity prickling my skin.

Uncle Eren always found the oddest places and the strangest sellers. The people who sold antiques to him usually came through newspaper ads or word of mouth, often when they were spring-cleaning or being urged to get rid of things they didn’t need anymore.

Uncle Eren hopped out, striding to the door and knocking sharply. We piled out after him, afraid it would start to rain again. Slow footsteps shuffled inside, and the door creaked open, revealing an old woman.

Her patterned dress swished at her ankles, long sleeves brushing her wrists, a neutral scarf framing her gray hair.

Slippers peeked out beneath the hem, soft and worn. Her glasses magnified her crinkled eyes, sparkling with a peculiar, unreadable depth.

“Eren!” she said, her smile warm as fresh bread. “You’re here already. Come in out of this rain.”

My pulse kicked up, a thrill buzzing through me. This was it, the pickup, the mystery.

“Manolya, quit daydreaming!” Uncle Eren called, waving me over. “Let’s go.”

I snapped back and answered, “I’m coming.”

I grabbed Pelin’s hand, tugging her along as the twins scrambled behind us, splashing through puddles.

“This place is cool,” Adem whispered, eyeing the fountain. “I like the water feature.”

“Or it’s more like a haunted house,” Adlee added in a whisper, smirking, rain dripping from his hood.

The old woman’s gaze slid over us, slow and knowing, her smile curling into something unreadable. “I’ve got just the right treasures waiting for you all,” she said, her voice low, threaded with a strange weight. “I’m happy you called once you saw my ad in the newspaper. Welcome.”

Uncle Eren chuckled. “Thank you for inviting us, and for being available so soon for an early pickup.”

Her eyes flicked to him, then to me, dark and unreadable, like she saw something we didn’t. “Of course,” she murmured, stepping aside to let us in.

Pelin squeezed my hand, her voice low. “She’s intense. What’s with that weird vibe?”

“No idea,” I whispered back, my skin prickling as Ipek’s absence tugged at my mind. “But she makes me feel…? Like, should we really go inside? Normally I’d be excited, but…”

“I know. She makes you uneasy, doesn’t she?” Pelin whispered.

I nodded.

“But beware, the treasure is cursed,” she then said with a melodramatic voice full of theatrical flair.

Adem leaned in, grinning. “A dangerous treasure? Cool.”

“Shut up,” Pelin hissed, but her lips twitched. “You’re not helping.”

The air thickened, the fountain’s gurgle twisting into a low, unnatural purl against the rain’s steady drum. That old lady knew something we didn’t, and it left an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.