Manolya`s POV The kitchen smelled faintly of coffee and warm bread by the time I slipped inside. My cousins were stirring, their voices low with sleep as they argued over who got the last pastry. Pelin lifted her head from the table, her hair a tangled mess. “Where were you?” she asked, rubbing her eyes. “Nowhere,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “Just… needed some air.” I grabbed a plate, sat down, and tore into a piece of bread. My hands shook faintly, but I hid them under the table. Aziz’s words still echoed in my ears. That’s my girl. Nobody was in the mood to talk during breakfast. The house felt heavy, as though all of us were carrying stones in our chests. Even the twins, usually so loud and ridiculous, had gone quiet. Pelin was the only one who tried to break through the silence as she dragged me up the stairs, her voice spilling into myroom like sunshine forcing its way past storm clouds. She turned to me, her hands on her hips. “Come on, Manolya, don’t
Última actualización : 2026-01-12 Leer más