Moonlit Scars

Seray

Lalam was the saddest child I'd ever seen.

It wasn't that she was not happy. She was. She smiled when I braided her hair with ribbons. She laughed when Kaya tickled her under her armpits. She sparkled whenever Özge hala put pink, icing sugar flowers on her cupcakes.

But she was sad.

She was sad, whenever I played the guitar because she had fleeting memories of her father doing the same. She was sad when we kissed her little nose, because her mother used to do that before putting her to sleep. She was sad whenever we went to the park because she missed her home.

She missed her home so much.

Ayleen had been thorough in making her familiar with me. She'd heard me sing before, in a video. But whenever she talked about the woods behind the mansion, and the stories her uncle Duman used to tell her, I felt like a monster for taking her away from her family.

This morning, Kaya took it up to herself to entertain Lalam, while I prepared breakfast with Özge hala. The last I saw them, they were wearing berry lipgloss and trying on matching nail polish. Kaya looked like a Halloween ghost.

The doorbell rang. Özge hala looked at me over her flour covered hands, eyebrows raised.

"You're not expecting anyone, are you?", She asked. I shook my head. "It's probably for Kaya then. I'll see"

I wiped my hand on the counter clothe. "You wait, I'll go and see"

The morning light made patterns on Özge hala's spotless linoleum passage floor. My slippers made no sound as I reached the door and opened it, letting in the early spring wind.

I froze.

When my brother got married, uncle Serath warned me off from attending the ceremony held in the Grand Plaza Hotel. We were invited, but he didn't want us near the Kartal family. When Ayleen became my sister-in-law, I dug up everything I could find about them, on the internet, in newspapers and on any social media account, just so I'd have an idea about how my brother spent his time. How their world worked.

The incident that happened at the Kartal mansion, only made me realize that how manipulative the media could be. When it came to Kartals, their glamorous world with annual galas and charity events couldn't possibly be true.

I stared at the two men standing at our door, dressed smart, polished shoes reflecting the sunlight. Altan and Demir Kartal- Ayleen's brothers. Even this early, they looked perfectly put together, sharp like the gleaming edge of a knife tip. The full force of their intense gazes landed on me and for a moment I reeled back on my heels.

I gripped the doorframe in my hand.

"Yes. What do you want?"

"Charming", the one with the scarred face drawled. He unsettled me- that man. There were several moments in that night, when I was sure that he was planning my death with his ice cold eyes. I looked at his stoic expression now. "The manners say it all"

His brother shot him a look. "Stop it. May we come in?"

Altan Kartal looked like the perfect businessman. Fitted suit, starched white shirt, hair brushed away from his forehead. He had the same unscrupulous smile of a man who made decisions and got his way, no matter what.

Unlike his brother who seemed to be trying to drill a hole through my face with his sharp stare. A bad feeling started forming in the pit of my stomach.

I ushered them through the hallway, to the living room. Özge hala peered around the doorframe, gave me a stunned look and disappeared back into the kitchen. I ran my hands over the creases on my skirt and regarded the two men.