Semua Bab The Secret Moonbird, Hellblades Series Part 2 of 3: Bab 21 - Bab 30

Serdar Kiliç’s POVI sat behind my desk, my office cloaked in shadows. The warm glow of daylight had vanished and only darkness clung the room.Case files lay open in front of me, but I hadn’t touched them in a long while.My eyes skimmed the pages without reading. Grief had a way of dulling everything else.The loss of my daughter had haunted me, and the search for answers had led me here.As my mind drifted, I thought of my daughter growing up, her small hand in mine, the way she would laugh when I picked her up and held her close.Her warmth, her innocent joy, the simple act of holding her, so full of life.I missed that feeling, the precious moments when she was my little girl, safe and loved.I should have comforted my wife more. She had suffered most, bearing most of the weight of our loss, and I had not been there for her in the way I should have. I had to step up and stop drowning myself in work.The sharp click of the door echoed through the room, pulling me out of my thought

Manolya’s POVPelin was waiting for me outside the beach house, arms folded tight across her chest as if she could hold herself together by force.I slowed my steps, staring at the double doors. My stomach tightened.Home.I did not feel like I belonged here anymore.I remembered everything now. The betrayal. The twisting web my father had spun around me, thinking he was shielding me from the truth, when all he had really done was make it worse.He had taken my reality and bent it until it snapped.Pelin stepped closer and took my hand.“We need the car keys,” she said gently. “Do you not want to go inside? Do you want me to do it for you?”I squeezed her hand as if it was the only solid thing in the world.“No,” I whispered. “I’m okay.”.My shaky breath betrayed me. Pelin’s gaze flicked over my face, reading me too well, but she did not push me further.I forced my feet forward.It took every ounce of willpower I had to lift my chin and push the doors open.“I’m home,” I called out,

Manolya’s POVPelin’s gaze flicked to the bag. “Is Aziz in there?”My throat tightened instantly.“Yes,” I said, and my voice came out too small.I swallowed hard. “After Mr. Mehmet’s shadow preservation… he became a white cat again.”My eyes stung. “He looks so pure. White as snow. Like he never belonged to hell at all.”Pelin’s face softened, even if she was not sentimental about him. She understood what he meant to me.“He’s still soft,” I continued, and my voice cracked. “As if he’d still be by my side. I can’t… I don’t have the heart to open the bag to look. It breaks me.”Pelin reached over and squeezed my hand. “It’s okay,” she said. “We’ll take him to rest. And then we can cry at his tomb together.”I stared at her for a moment, grateful in a way I could not express.“Thank you,” I whispered.We stepped out of the car and grabbed what we needed. Water. A flashlight. Snacks Ayla had pressed into our hands. The hiking gear Mr. Mehmet had packed.I lifted the bag carefully and ti

Manolya’s POVPelin and I spent days buried in the library.Not hours.Days.The kind where the light outside the tall arched windows shifted from soft morning gold to harsh noon white, then melted into amber again before either of us noticed.The kind where time stopped meaning anything except how long my tea had gone cold beside me.Books were stacked everywhere.On the floor.On the low tables.On the arm of the cream-colored sofa beneath the window where I had claimed my spot.Ancient volumes with cracked leather spines lay open beside glossy new publications that still smelled faintly of ink and glue.Ottoman scripts.Translated mythologies.Local folklore collections.Academic journals so dense they made my head throb after two pages.Nothing.Every time I turned a page, my chest tightened with the same disappointing dread.Nothing about moonbirds.Nothing about Heaven’s Gate.I stirred my black tea absently, watching the surface ripple, when Pelin let out a frustrated groan fro

Manolya’s POVA piece of me was missing, and I had no idea how to fill that void.Could this journey offer me some resemblance of peace?I hoped so, even if I wasn’t entirely convinced.I still couldn’t process the feelings I had towards my father. It felt as though I was grieving the loss of both parents instead of just one. He was alive, breathing, moving through the house, yet something about him felt… dead to me in a way I couldn’t quite explain.I pushed my toughts aside for now.Slowly, the ruins of Ephesus began to loom closer.After a while, Pelin shifted in her seat. “Okay,” she sighed, flexing her fingers. “My legs are starting to feel like stone. Can we switch?”“Of course,” I said, pulling over.We switched places, and I drove the last stretch until we reached the parking lot.I turned off the engine and sat there for a moment, hands resting on the steering wheel.I took a deep breath and slipped the keys into my pocket while Pelin grabbed the cooler bag and picnic basket