For several seconds, Mehreen could do nothing except stare at Arslan.

The word he had spoken continued echoing in her mind.

Sister.

It didn’t make sense.

It couldn’t be true.

She had grown up as an only child.

She knew every story about her family.

Every photograph.

Every birthday.

Every memory.

There had never been another daughter.

Never.

Mehreen shook her head.

“No.”

Arslan remained silent.

“No,” she repeated, louder this time.

“You said it yourself. I don’t have a sister.”

“I know what you were told.”

“Not what I was told.”

She stepped closer.

“I know my own family.”

Arslan looked at her with sadness in his eyes.

“Do you?”

The question hurt more than it should have.

Mehreen’s eyes filled with tears.

“Don’t do this.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you.”

“Then stop giving me new reasons to hate my life.”

Arslan stepped closer.

“I would never want you to hate your life.”

“Then tell me the truth!”

“I don’t know the entire truth.”

“But you know something.”

“Yes.”

“Then tell me.”

Arslan took a breath.

“Your mother had two daughters.”

Mehreen’s heart stopped.

“That’s impossible.”

“Your sister was born three years before you.”

“What’s her name?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is she alive?”

Arslan didn’t answer.

Mehreen’s voice broke.

“Is she alive?”

“I think so.”

Mehreen covered her mouth.

Tears filled her eyes.

A sister.

Somewhere in the world.

A girl who shared her blood.

A girl who had grown up without her.

A girl whose existence had been erased from her life.

“Why?”

Arslan looked at her.

“Why would my family do this?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why would my mother hide her?”

“Maybe she didn’t.”

“Then who did?”

“Your father.”

Mehreen shook her head.

“No.”

“Mehreen—”

“My father loved me.”

“I believe that.”

“Then he couldn’t have done this.”

“People can love you and still hide things from you.”

“Not something like this.”

Arslan looked at her.

“Sometimes people make terrible choices because they believe they’re protecting the people they love.”

Mehreen wiped her tears.

“You’re defending him.”

“No.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“Trying to help you understand.”

“I don’t want to understand.”

Her voice broke.

“I want my life back.”

Arslan’s expression softened.

Mehreen looked away.

“I want to go back to yesterday.”

“Why?”

“Because yesterday I only thought my mother was dead.”

She laughed bitterly.

“Today I don’t know if she is alive. I don’t know if my father is a liar. I don’t know if I have a sister. I don’t know if your father is dead.”

She looked at him.

“And I don’t even know if I can trust you.”

Arslan’s face fell.

Mehreen immediately regretted the words.

But they were already spoken.

“I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay.”

“No.”

He looked away.

“You have every right to doubt me.”

“Arslan.”

“I understand.”

She stepped closer.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“But you were right.”

“About what?”

“You shouldn’t trust me.”

Mehreen froze.

Arslan looked at her.

“Not completely.”

“Why?”

“Because there are things I haven’t told you.”

Her heart sank.

“What things?”

Arslan didn’t answer.

Mehreen whispered:

“Tell me.”

He took a deep breath.

“I knew your mother was alive.”

Silence.

Mehreen felt as though someone had struck her.

“What?”

“I knew.”

“When?”

“Before I met you.”

“How?”

“Because she contacted me.”

Mehreen stared at him.

“When?”

“Six months ago.”

Her eyes widened.

“Six months?”

Arslan nodded.

“She sent me a letter.”

“Where is it?”

“I destroyed it.”

“Why?”

“She asked me to.”

Mehreen’s voice became cold.

“What did she say?”

Arslan looked at her.

“She said you were in danger.”

“What kind of danger?”

“She didn’t explain.”

“And you never told me?”

“I didn’t know who you were.”

Mehreen frowned.

“What?”

“I didn’t know you were her daughter.”

“But you knew my name.”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Your grandmother.”

Mehreen stepped backward.

“My grandmother knew.”

“Yes.”

“Everyone knew.”

“Not everyone.”

“My father?”

“I don’t know.”

“My mother?”

“Yes.”

“Your mother?”

Arslan became silent.

Mehreen’s heart began racing.

“Does your mother know me?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Because she knew your mother.”

Mehreen shook her head.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Arslan looked at her.

“Yes.”

“What?”

He took a step closer.

“Your mother and mine were friends.”

Mehreen froze.

“Friends?”

“Very close friends.”

“Then why did they both disappear?”

“Because they were trying to protect us.”

“From the Black Circle?”

“Yes.”

“Who are they?”

Arslan’s expression became dark.

“People who don’t forgive betrayal.”

Mehreen stared at him.

“Your father betrayed them?”

“No.”

“My father?”

“No.”

“Then who?”

Arslan looked at the broken window.

“Someone close to both families.”

“Who?”

He looked back at her.

“We need to find the diary.”

“What diary?”

“My father’s real diary.”

Mehreen frowned.

“You showed me one.”

“That wasn’t the real one.”

“Then where is it?”

“Your grandmother hid it.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know.”

Mehreen stared at him.

“But you know someone who does.”

Arslan nodded.

“Who?”

“Your sister.”

Mehreen’s heart stopped.

“How?”

“Because she found it.”

“What?”

“She contacted me.”

Mehreen couldn’t breathe.

“My sister contacted you?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Two months ago.”

Mehreen’s eyes filled with tears.

“What did she say?”

“She said she knew the truth.”

“What truth?”

“She didn’t tell me.”

“Why?”

“Because she was afraid.”

“Afraid of whom?”

Arslan looked at her.

“Your father.”

Mehreen closed her eyes.

Everything was becoming too much.

Her family.

Her mother.

Her father.

Her sister.

Arslan.

The Black Circle.

The missing diary.

It was as if her entire life had been built on secrets.

Then she remembered something.

The old photograph.

The one from her father’s study.

The man whose face had been scratched out.

She opened her phone and showed it to Arslan.

“This man.”

Arslan looked at the photograph.

His face immediately changed.

“What?”

“Do you know him?”

Arslan didn’t answer.

“Arslan?”

He slowly nodded.

“Yes.”

“Who is he?”

Arslan’s eyes became cold.

“Salman.”

Mehreen froze.

“The man we saw at the hotel?”

“Yes.”

“But you said Salman was dead.”

“I thought he was.”

“He wasn’t.”

“No.”

“Then why did he scratch out his face?”

“Because he wanted to disappear.”

Mehreen looked at the photograph.

“What did he do?”

Arslan’s voice became quiet.

“He betrayed everyone.”

“Your father?”

“Yes.”

“My mother?”

“Yes.”

“My father?”

“Yes.”

“And your mother?”

“Yes.”

Mehreen looked at him.

“Why?”

Arslan’s eyes filled with anger.

“Because he wanted the money.”

“What money?”

“The money your father and mine had hidden.”

Mehreen frowned.

“What money?”

Arslan shook his head.

“That’s what the diary will tell us.”

“Where do we find it?”

“At your grandmother’s house.”

Mehreen immediately understood.

“The library.”

Arslan nodded.

“The book.”

“What book?”

“The book where you found the first letter.”

Mehreen’s eyes widened.

“The letter that never arrived.”

“Yes.”

“You think the diary is hidden there?”

“Maybe.”

They didn’t waste another minute.

---

The rain had stopped by the time they reached Mehreen’s grandmother’s house.

The old mansion was completely silent.

Mehreen unlocked the door.

They entered.

The library was exactly as she had left it.

Books.

Dust.

Old furniture.

Memories.

Mehreen walked toward the shelf.

“The letter was inside this book.”

She pulled it out.

Arslan examined it.

“Look at the spine.”

Mehreen turned the book around.

There was a small symbol carved into the leather.

A circle.

With three lines crossing it.

Arslan immediately froze.

“The Black Circle.”

Mehreen stared at him.

“That’s their symbol?”

“Yes.”

She opened the book.

Nothing.

Arslan began searching the shelves.

Mehreen looked around.

Then she remembered something.

“Wait.”

She walked toward her grandmother’s old chair.

There was a small wooden table beside it.

Mehreen touched the bottom.

Something clicked.

A hidden drawer opened.

Inside was a small black notebook.

Mehreen’s heart stopped.

“Arslan.”

He rushed toward her.

She took it out.

The cover had no name.

But there was a date.

Fifteen years ago.

Arslan slowly opened it.

The first page contained a sentence.

“If you are reading this, then my daughter has finally found the truth.”

Mehreen’s heart began racing.

“My daughter.”

She turned the page.

There were names.

Her mother’s.

Her father’s.

Arslan’s father’s.

And another name.

Mehreen stopped.

“Arslan.”

He looked.

At the bottom of the page was a name.

Ayla.

Mehreen stared at it.

“Who is Ayla?”

Arslan’s face went pale.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s my sister.”

“How do you know?”

“Because the next line says…”

She read it aloud.

“Ayla is not dead.”

Mehreen covered her mouth.

Tears filled her eyes.

Her sister was alive.

She had always been alive.

Mehreen turned the page.

A message appeared.

“Ayla was taken to protect Mehreen.”

Mehreen’s knees became weak.

Arslan caught her.

“Mehreen.”

She looked at him.

“Why would they take her?”

“To make sure your mother stayed silent.”

“What?”

Arslan read the next page.

“They threatened to kill Ayla if Noshin revealed the truth.”

Mehreen’s tears fell.

“My grandmother knew.”

“Yes.”

“She knew my sister was alive.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t she tell me?”

“Because she was protecting Ayla.”

Mehreen shook her head.

“Where is she?”

Arslan turned the page.

Nothing.

The next page was torn out.

Mehreen stared at the empty space.

“Someone removed it.”

Arslan nodded.

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

Suddenly, they heard a noise.

A door closing.

Both turned.

Someone was inside the house.

Arslan immediately stood.

“Stay here.”

“No.”

“Mehreen.”

“I’m coming.”

They walked quietly through the hallway.

The noise came from upstairs.

Arslan slowly climbed the stairs.

Mehreen followed.

At the end of the corridor, a door was open.

Her father’s room.

Mehreen froze.

“He was here.”

Arslan looked at her.

“How do you know?”

“His coat.”

She pointed.

A black coat hung beside the door.

Mehreen stepped inside.

The room was empty.

But the window was open.

Arslan ran toward it.

Someone had escaped.

Mehreen looked at the bed.

There was a photograph.

She picked it up.

Her heart stopped.

It was a photograph of a little girl.

Around three years old.

The girl was standing beside her mother.

And on the back…

A name.

Ayla.

Mehreen held the photograph against her chest.

“She’s my sister.”

Arslan stood behind her.

“Yes.”

Mehreen turned around.

“Where is she?”

Arslan looked at the photograph.

Then he noticed something.

A location was written below the name.

House No. 27.

Mehreen looked at him.

“Where is this?”

Arslan immediately recognized it.

“Old City.”

“Let’s go.”

“Mehreen, wait.”

“No.”

“It could be a trap.”

“I don’t care.”

“You should.”

“My whole life has been a trap.”

She wiped her tears.

“I’m done being afraid.”

Arslan looked at her.

“Then don’t go alone.”

She stared at him.

He stepped closer.

“I’m coming with you.”

Mehreen nodded.

“Together.”

“Always.”

The word escaped his lips before he could stop himself.

Mehreen stared at him.

Arslan realized what he had said.

Neither moved.

Then Mehreen smiled through her tears.

“Always?”

Arslan looked into her eyes.

“Yes.”

She stepped closer.

“Even when you lie?”

“I won’t lie again.”

“Even when I’m angry?”

“Especially then.”

“Even when I’m impossible?”

Arslan smiled.

“You’re always impossible.”

Mehreen laughed softly.

For the first time in days, her heart felt light.

She looked at him.

“Arslan.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For staying.”

His smile disappeared.

“Mehreen.”

“Yes?”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Her heart began beating faster.

He gently touched her face.

This time…

Neither of them looked away.

“I don’t know when you became my home. I only know that every time the world becomes frightening, my heart searches for you before it remembers how to be brave.”

Mehreen closed her eyes.

Arslan leaned closer.

Their foreheads touched.

For a moment, everything was quiet.

Then Mehreen whispered:

“Don’t leave me.”

Arslan’s voice was barely audible.

“Never.”

Their lips were almost touching when—

A phone rang.

They immediately stepped apart.

Mehreen looked at her phone.

Unknown number.

She answered.

“Hello?”

Silence.

“Hello?”

A woman’s voice finally spoke.

“Mehreen?”

Her heart stopped.

She recognized the voice.

It was the same voice from Room 317.

Her mother’s voice.

“Mom?”

Arslan immediately moved closer.

Mehreen held the phone tightly.

“Where are you?”

The woman began crying.

“My daughter…”

Mehreen’s tears fell.

“Mom, please tell me where you are.”

“I don’t have much time.”

“Please.”

“Listen to me carefully.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t go to House No. 27.”

Mehreen froze.

“Why?”

“Because they’re waiting for you.”

“Who?”

“Your father.”

Mehreen’s heart stopped.

“What?”

Her mother whispered:

“Your father knows where Ayla is.”

Mehreen looked at Arslan.

“Where is my sister?”

Silence.

Then her mother said:

“She is closer than you think.”

“What does that mean?”

“Look at the person you trust most.”

Mehreen’s heart began pounding.

“Mom?”

The line went dead.

“Mom!”

Mehreen looked at the phone.

Then at Arslan.

“What did she mean?”

Arslan was silent.

“Look at the person you trust most.”

Mehreen stared at him.

Her eyes slowly widened.

“No.”

“What?”

She stepped away.

“Arslan…”

“What?”

“My mother knew you.”

“Yes.”

“She contacted you six months ago.”

“Yes.”

“She knew you would find me.”

“Yes.”

“Your mother knew my mother.”

“Yes.”

Mehreen’s breathing became faster.

“Your mother disappeared.”

“Yes.”

“My mother disappeared.”

“Yes.”

“Your father disappeared.”

“Yes.”

“My sister disappeared.”

“Yes.”

Arslan stared at her.

Mehreen whispered:

“What if they’re all connected?”

Arslan’s expression changed.

“What are you thinking?”

Mehreen looked at the photograph of Ayla.

Then at Arslan.

“What if Ayla isn’t missing?”

“Mehreen.”

“What if she’s been right in front of us?”

Arslan’s face went pale.

“Who?”

Mehreen’s eyes filled with tears.

She remembered the old woman at Room 317.

The woman who knew her.

The woman who knew Arslan.

The woman who had been protecting someone.

Mehreen whispered:

“The woman from the hotel.”

Arslan froze.

“No.”

“She knew my mother.”

“Yes.”

“She knew your father.”

“Yes.”

“She knew you.”

“Yes.”

Mehreen’s voice trembled.

“And she knew me.”

Arslan shook his head.

“Mehreen, she was too old.”

“What if she wasn’t?”

“She was older.”

“Maybe she wasn’t Ayla.”

Mehreen looked at him.

“Maybe…”

Her voice broke.

“…she was Ayla’s mother.”

Arslan stared at her.

Mehreen’s eyes widened.

“The woman at the hotel.”

She took a breath.

“She was my mother’s friend.”

“Yes.”

“And she disappeared.”

“Yes.”

“And her husband disappeared.”

“Yes.”

“And their daughter…”

Arslan finished the sentence.

“Ayla.”

They looked at each other.

The truth was suddenly terrifyingly close.

Then Mehreen remembered the woman’s face.

The way she had looked at her.

The tears in her eyes.

The way she had whispered her name.

Not like a stranger.

Like family.

Mehreen whispered:

“She wasn’t looking at me like she knew me.”

Arslan stared.

“Then how?”

Mehreen’s voice trembled.

“She was looking at me…”

She took a step backward.

“…like she had been waiting for me.”

---

They returned to the hotel.

The woman was gone.

But the receptionist was still sitting behind the desk.

Mehreen approached him.

“Where is the woman who was in Room 317?”

The receptionist looked at her.

“What woman?”

“An old woman.”

“I don’t know.”

“She was here.”

“No one has stayed in Room 317 for fifteen years.”

Mehreen froze.

“What?”

The receptionist smiled.

“Room 317 was closed after the incident.”

“What incident?”

He looked at her.

“The disappearance.”

“Whose?”

The man pointed toward the old register.

Mehreen opened it.

There was a name.

Ayla Rahman.

Mehreen’s heart stopped.

She turned toward Arslan.

“Ayla.”

The receptionist continued.

“She disappeared fifteen years ago.”

Mehreen stared at the name.

Then the receptionist said something that made her blood run cold.

“But she wasn’t alone.”

Mehreen looked at him.

“Who was with her?”

The man slowly pointed at the register.

There were two names.

Ayla Rahman.

Noshin Begum.

Mehreen’s grandmother.

She stepped backward.

Her entire body went cold.

Her grandmother had been in Room 317.

The night her mother disappeared.

The night Ayla disappeared.

And the night Arslan’s father supposedly died.

Mehreen looked at Arslan.

“We’ve been searching for the wrong person.”

Arslan’s eyes narrowed.

“What do you mean?”

Mehreen whispered:

“My sister wasn’t taken.”

“Then?”

“She was hidden.”

“By whom?”

Mehreen looked at the register.

“By my grandmother.”

Suddenly, Arslan’s phone rang.

He answered.

“Hello?”

Silence.

Then his face changed.

Mehreen watched him.

“What happened?”

Arslan slowly lowered the phone.

“That was the police.”

“Why?”

“They found a body.”

Mehreen’s heart stopped.

“Whose?”

Arslan looked at her.

His eyes were filled with fear.

“They think it’s your mother.”

Mehreen couldn’t breathe.

“Where?”

“The old river house.”

“Let’s go.”

“Mehreen—”

She grabbed his hand.

“Together.”

Arslan stared at her.

Then nodded.

“Together.”

They ran outside.

Neither noticed the woman standing across the street.

She watched them disappear.

Then she slowly removed her black shawl.

It was the same woman from Room 317.

She picked up her phone.

“He’s taking her to the river house.”

A voice answered.

“Good.”

The woman closed her eyes.

“What happens now?”

The voice replied:

“Now they finally learn why Ayla had to disappear.”

The woman opened her eyes.

Tears rolled down her face.

“Will Mehreen forgive us?”

The voice became cold.

“She won’t.”

“Why?”

“Because the truth is always cruel to the people who discover it last.”

The call ended.

And somewhere in the darkness…

A man opened an old box.

Inside was a photograph.

Two little girls.

One was Mehreen.

The other was Ayla.

But beneath the photograph was a final letter.

Written fifteen years ago.

“When Mehreen finds Ayla, she will also find the truth about Arslan.”

The man smiled.

Because the final secret…

Wasn’t about Mehreen’s mother.

Or her sister.

It was about Arslan.

And the truth would force Mehreen to make the hardest choice of her life.

Love Arslan…

Or save him.

To Be Continued…