The Wren:Chapter 11.1-Yaman
The atmosphere in the mansion was suffocating, filled with years of unspoken
resentment and hidden longing. According to Hayrullah Bey’s final instructions,
the sealed package was to be opened only in the presence of the entire family. As
we gathered in the dimly lit library, the air was thick with anticipation. Kâmuran’s
hands trembled as he broke the seal of the thick diary I had carried all the way
from the coast.
It wasn't just a diary; it was a testament to my life in Anatolia. However, the most
crucial part was a letter addressed directly to Kâmuran. As he began to read it
aloud, his voice cracked with emotion. Hayrullah Bey had written a detailed
account of our "marriage," explaining with clinical precision that it had been a
fatherly arrangement to shield me from the harsh judgments of society.
"She never stopped belonging to you, Kâmuran," the letter stated. "She spent her
youth teaching children in the wilderness, but every night, she whispered your
name to the stars. Do not let her fly away again."
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