In his dreams, Kemal found himself standing in the middle of an excavation site from years ago. He was upright, yet the ground beneath his feet felt unstable—as if everything he stepped on teetered between dream and reality. The landscape around him was hazy and suffocating. The wind seemed to blow, but not a single leaf moved.
Time was frozen. In the distance stood a familiar silhouette. His mother.
Her brown hair spilled from under her excavation hat, and she wore her usual dirt-stained shirt. She held something in her hands, but Kemal couldn't quite make out what it was. He squinted, stepped closer, but the image remained blurry. She didn't turn toward him. She just waited silently.
Kemal wanted to call out to her, but his voice failed. He took another step and in that moment, the sky began to darken. The grey haze gave way to deep black. Amber eyes appeared in the void before her. Lion's eyes.
His mother finally turned slightly. Her eyes were blank, lifeless. And then it began. From the corners of her eyes, her ears, and the edges of her lips, a dark red liquid started to seep. Blood. At first, it was a thin line. Then it spilled down her chin, neck, and chest. Her hands dripped with it. The object she held was now soaked in red.
Kemal stood rooted in place. He couldn't move. Couldn't close his eyes. And then, the lion's eyes flared again. Much closer this time. Kemal woke up without a scream.
His whole body was drenched. He sat up on the couch, breathing heavily. Only three hours had passed, yet he felt as though he hadn't rested at all. Rubbing his face and eyes, he muttered to himself, "What kind of dream was that?"
Were these just the tricks of a weary mind? Or fragments of buried memories? What was that object in his mother's hands? Why couldn't he see it clearly?
Thoughts drifted heavily in his mind. Lately, the line between dream and reality had blurred beyond recognition. Were his memories fading? Or was the past intertwining with the present?
He placed a hand over his heart. It was still racing. Was this merely a dream... or a warning? Trying to collect himself, Kemal checked his emails. Still no response. With a sliver of desperate hope, he dialed Yelda's number again. The same haunting result: the call went unanswered. His messages still showed as undelivered.
He could no longer deny it. Something had happened to her. He tried to dismiss the thought, but every passing minute made the dark possibility feel more real. He considered who he might reach out to—her family, friends, colleagues. But a deeper fear clawed at him:
What if someone started associating him with her disappearance? Given the recent events, proving his innocence wouldn't be easy. In a burst of resolve, he decided to visit the university. Maybe someone there knew something. He dressed quickly and left.
On the road, his thoughts strayed to the horror of the day before. He didn't want to return to the scene. Yet curiosity gnawed at him. In the end, it won. He turned the car toward the alley. Parking discreetly in a side street, he approached the spot where the man had fallen. No one was around. So someone had found the body... but why hadn't it been reported? He walked slowly to the place. It was spotless. No blood. No signs. As if nothing had happened. Kemal felt a knot form deep within him. He turned and rushed back to the car. Just as he reached for the door, a sound echoed from the street entrance.
He froze. Turned his head quickly—but saw no one. That familiar sensation returned. Someone was watching him. Had someone seen what happened that day, hidden the body, and now kept following him? He didn't wait to find out. Kemal started the engine and gripped the wheel tightly.
He now had a clear destination:
The university.
Maybe, just maybe, he could find a lead amid the silence there.