They spent the night together with Abla, they ate their dinner in her room and when it was time to go to bed, Nazli asked Yusrah to sleep in her room. "Why? You've always said you loved sleeping alone, Abla. Do you need me by your side?" Abla shook her head as she smiled.

"I just want to sleep together with my baby, is that too much to ask? We could sleep here if you want..." She wasn't done when she heard the squeal that escaped Yusrah's voice as she vehemently nodded her head.

"Please! I've always wanted you to sleep in my room. Should we have a pajama party?" She laughed so loud that Nazli had no choice but to do whatever it was that she wanted. She went to her room and brought out Abla's favorite pajama and when she came back, she was waiting for her with her hair so long and shiny flowing over her shoulders down her back.

"Can you massage my scalp, Bebeğim?" She asked, her fingers slowly roaming through her hair and Yusrah nodded her head while she walked towards her.

"With utmost pleasure." She said as she handed her the pajamas and waited as she changed into them. "I've always wondered how in the world your hair is this long, Abla. I know mine isn't an arm length shorter but still, yours always look more magnificent. Won't you tell me the secret behind your hair? I may expand Nazli from perfumery to hair products, who knows? The Turkish secret behind everything will make it stand out."

"It's always weird whenever you refer to your company as Nazli, it makes me think you're referring to me." Abla said as she rested her head on her laps while Yusrah began to massage her scalp.

"That's because I'm referring to you, Abla. I've always loved your name and I wish I could use it as mine but we all have our names and I love my name even more." She chuckled at the sound Abla made and continued. "Do you know how the name came to me?" She asked softly and watched as Abla closed her eyes before she make a sound that emanated that she wanted to know.

"I was taking a business course when it came to your brand name and it made me thought deeply, what would be so significant for my brand. What would I name it to have it stuck to my brain that even if, god forbid, the business fails, I'll still use the name while venturing into another..." She breathed softly and felt as what she had felt that day slowly resurfacing through her heart.

"I thought of what had kept me going in my life, of what that even if I were to be struck by a tornado will still have me pushing because I would have to keep fighting for that. And that's no one but you, Abla. You're the reason why I'm alive, the reason why I have the kind of life I do and I'd forever be indebted to the kind of love you have for me and the how good you take care of me..." She didn't know that tears had already burnt her eyes until she felt as a lone of tear cascaded down her cheeks.

"You see, Abla, without you, I may be at an orphanage or some sort of place that would never give me this life. I know that whoever my parents are, they will certainly not love me the way you do nor would they take of me like you do..." She didn't know she had stopped massaging the scalp or that Abla had sat upright and was hugging her, too, crying along with her.

"Yusrah, you're my daughter." She said with tears trying so hard not to suffocate her. Yusrah hugged her back. She knew they were having this conversation for the umpteenth time, and each time, Abla made sure she assured her that she was her mother and if only she knew that she didn't even need words as her assurance. Her actions spoke louder than her words, always.

"You're the best mother I could ever ask for, Abla. Thank you so much for loving me this much." They spent the entire night talking about things Yusrah thought she may never have to share with her mother. And just before they slept, she asked her if she had someone she loved and that rustled out a laughter out of her chest.

"Did you forget that we agreed there was no love portioned for me in this life? Don't tell me you've forgotten about Walid, Abla, that son of a..."

"Do you know why when you loved him and he broke you it was so hard for you? And why now that you hate Hammad it's also taking a toll on you?" She asked with a slow voice that emanated that she was sleepy already.

"No, do you have an idea how to stop that?"

"Because you do all these things with all your heart, Bebeğim. You love with your entire heart and hate that way as well. It's both a blessing and a curse to feel way too much, Bebeğim." That was it, her heart always felt too much. Be it love or hatred, it just didn't understand what it meant to feel on a minimum. It preferred to give its all and that way, when it was battered and broken, it wouldn't have even ounce left for itself.

"I don't think about the blessing part, Ablağim, to me, it's certainly a curse." She said with voice coated with too much pain for Walid and venom so dangerous that it may poison her heart; for Hammad.

"I pray that one day, you'd see the blessing in it. I really hope it's there hidden somewhere." With those words, she sealed her mouth shut and Yusrah spent half of the night thinking of her life. And she kept thanking Allah immensely for letting her paths crossed with Nazli, her very own sweet and beautiful mother.

•

Hammad walked out of the hospital room with his tears blocking his view as he tried to navigate his way through the long white corridors, so he could isolate himself and cry to his satisfaction. It was too much, seeing the way life was threatening to seize out of his father's chest was so terrifying that when Dr Abdul walked in, he knew he couldn't stay to hear the most devastating news of his life. He wanted his Abbi, but it seemed like for once, Hammad Idi Labo wouldn't have what he wanted in life.

He found a hut at the far end of the hospital, away from the people that were bustling in and out of the hospital and he burst into tears the moment he sat down. He cried with his heart on his eyes and he felt as the searing pain threatened to end his life too. He pulled out his phone and kept it by his side, because he assumed that the next call he would get would be that of Dr Abdul telling him that Abbi was no more. As much as he prayed that wouldn't happen, he knew it would.

He was crying so hard that he didn't notice when someone walked into the hut and sat down, staring at him intently. He began to wipe at his tears and wondered who this person was and how inconsiderate he or she must be. Because certainly, it seemed to whoever it was that he ran here to have a moment with himself because he obviously had a loved one slowly dying in the confines of this hospital and his heart may not be strong enough to take it all.

He looked up and saw that it was Dr Abdul, staring at him with a forlorn look and instantly, his heart lost a beat. "Hammad," he called out softly and Hammad knew he had to build those firm walls around his heart to stop the next words of Dr Abdul from penetrating right through his aorta and causing him a heart attack that would cost his life.

He smiled at him again, and this time, more calmly. "He's not dead, Hammad, okay? He won't be, at least not in a few weeks or months. He could even be among the lucky ones to get healed. Or even if he doesn't get healed, he may live for years, we all aren't certain."

He didn't know he sighed and palmed his face in his hands, crying a bit. "Thank you, Dr." That was all he could say, because this was a news he had never expected to hear from him at this time.

"You have to be strong for him. He wants you by his side, he wants his last words to be uttered to you and for him to stare at you for the last time. He wants you to be his last and if you can't always be by his side and running away to cry your eyes out whenever he's having one of those crisis, you may not be able to fulfill his last wish."

It felt as though someone was squeezing his heart with his hand because it felt excruciatingly painful that he wanted to scream his lungs out and tell him to stop. But he could use all the comfort he could get from those around him, and he didn't have that much people around him. In fact, he had no one but Abbi and now life was trying so hard to take him away from him.

Dr Abdul spent over ten minutes talking to him until he felt strong enough to stand up and walk back to the room because he told him he was feeling much better and he had asked of him now. They stood together but Dr Abdul walked to another patient and he wandered slowly on the long and cold corridors while he thought of how his life would be if Abbi died. It would be so difficult that he would shut the world out to figure out how to live afterwards.

While walking towards the room, he saw the retreating back of a woman that looked oddly familiar to him. But she had turned the corner even before he reached her and she was instantly out of his sight. He walked into the room and found his Abbi crying so hard as though he were a small boy that got lost from his mother and he wanted so hard to find her. He rushed to him and placed his hands on his shoulders to calm him down.

"Abbi, what's wrong?" He asked, his heart thumping unsteadily in his ribcage and he wished he had a way of making it to stop beating the way it did.

All Abbi did was cried so hard and when he couldn't take it anymore, he pulled him into a hug and cried along with him, hearing the way Abbi's crying voice croaked, "I miss her, I miss her so terribly that it sometimes keeps me up at night, Hammad. But you see, I don't have time now, and she..." He cried even more while Hammad pulled him closer to his chest.

"I miss her too, Abbi." His mother, he missed her every single time of his life and he wished he could bring back the hands of time and not have her die while they could do nothing but watch. They cried into each other's arms and he thought, if someday Abbi died, who would be there to console him? That though made him cry even more bitterly.

•

"What's with the aroma, Bebeğim? No one cooks Turkish dishes better than you do." Nazli spoke as she walked into the kitchen with a lopsided smile on her lips. She was trying so hard to to sound and look normal but Yusrah clearly knew that she wasn't. She was hurting inside. And today, when she came back from saloon she heard her cries as she went to her room to tell her she was back. She was crying so hard that she decided she certainly didn't want her there, so she left.

Yusrah turned and hugged her warmly to her chest before she guided her to the kitchen island. "My pretty woman has been forlorn for long and I want to plaster that beautiful smile on her lips, hence the bribe. And nothing works like Turkish dishes." She grinned and went back to the cooking gas. "Do you want some chai, Abla?" She asked and Abla nodded her head vehemently.

"Teşekkürler, Bebeğim." She thanked her when she placed the cup down and smiled warmly at her.

Yusrah put everything on fire and came back to sit with her, they chatted for a while and when the dinner was ready, she served them and they began to eat in utter silence. She watched as Abla always heaved a sigh and she looked downcast. "You must have something to tell me, Ablağim, right?" She asked, because whenever she had something weighing her heart down this much, she always shared it with her.

"Yes, Yusrah. But tomorrow, Insha Allah. When you're back from work, I'll tell you everything. My entire life until today, I won't omit a single thing from it, I promise." Yusrah stared at her unbelievably for some seconds before she shook her head to quickly answer her.

"But really, Abla, what's wrong with you? And out of the blue moon you won't just say you'd tell me what I've even given up on asking you about." She sounded worried, because she was. Did something happen? Was she diagnosed with a chronic disease and she didn't want to leave her without knowing anything about her? So many questions were rummaging through her brain and she didn't know when Abla took a hold of her hands and kissed them warmly.

"Bebeğim," she called out lovingly and smiled at her to ease the tension knotting itself around them. "I'm fine, I'm not sick. I'm just tired of hiding lots of things from you when you deserve to at least know them all. My life is just full of lies and secrets and you're the least person that deserves not to know the truth."

Yusrah felt tears pooling the brink of her eyes. "What are you talking about, Abla? You're scaring me. What lies?" Her voice wavered as she spoke and she wanted to break into tears.

No matter how Nazli replayed this conversation in her head, she was wrong. It wasn't going the way she wanted. She thought that when she told Yusrah that by tomorrow there would be no more lies between them, she would tell her everything about her life, she would be patient enough to wait until the said time. But it seemed it had miscalculated this part of the deal, for Yusrah had never sounded impatient like today.

"You have to listen to me, Yusrah. Don't panic, don't hate me as well..." She began, but Yusrah shook their entwined hands as she spoke with a raspy breath.

"Hate you? I'll never hate you in my life. What are you talking about? You're making whatever it is sound so huge, Abla. You sound like you're about to tell me that you're my biological mother." She chuckled lightly to ease the tension clouding between them. But when she heard the surge of tears that escaped Abla's lips made her heart stopped beating for a while.

"That's because I'm going to tell you I'm your biological mother, Yusrah. I gave birth to you, you're truly my Bebeğim." She felt the way Yusrah released her hold on her hands and she slumped back on the chair, crest fallen.

"What are you talking about?" She asked light heatedly and watched the way Nazli fumbled through something and she provided a paper. It was a birth certificate and even before she took it from her hand, she knew it was hers. She had always known that she was born in Istanbul and that was where Nazli adopted her.

Her tears stopped her from speaking and all she could ask her was, "Why did you lie to me, Abla? No..." She immediately began to shake her head, "Mom, why did you hide it from me?" She cried even more, for the first time she had called her Mom and it felt so good. So right and warm.

"To protect you, Yusrah. You wouldn't have been here with him if I hadn't lied about it."

"What are you talking about? Who will hurt me? Who even cares about me?"

"I can't answer your questions now. Just promise me one thing," she asked, but the only thing that could be heard was Yusrah's tears. "Please, Yusrah, promise me that you'd never tell anyone that I'm your mother. Until I tell you everything and then we plan everything out, please?"

Yusrah stared at her for some time. She wanted to scream at her, yell at her for lying to her all these years. She could even lie and say that she hated her. But the tears she was seeing on Abla's face was enough to break her heart and she gulped down all the hurtful things she wished to say.

"Just so you know, I may not know your reason but I don't hate you for this. For all the things you're going to tell me tomorrow. And I'll keep your promise for as long as you want me to. And I love you so much." She cried so hard and heard Abla sniffling as well, "I want you to know that nothing has changed. You've always been a mother to me, more than a mother should be. This is just like an assurance of what my heart knows for a very long time. Thank you for protecting me the way you think was safer, I may not know your reason, Mama, but I trust it with all that's in me."

Nazli laughed and cried at the same time. "I love you too, Yusrah, more than anything in this life. And do you know what? Hearing you call me that feels so great. I was afraid that when you call me Mom or Mama it will be obvious that I was your real mother, to you, to me that was trying to hide and to those I was trying to hide it from. That's why I told you to be calling me Abla, sister..."

"Because you were just a few decades older than me, just two decades, to be precise and it wasn't enough to have me call you mother, right?" She said, those were the words Nazli told her the day she said she should be calling her Abla, which meant sister.

"I love you, Yusrah." Nazli cried and Yusrah stood up before she hugged her so warm and spoke lovingly, "Seni seviyorum, Ablağim." I love you, my Abla. They spent half the night talking like a mother and daughter and it was the most therapeutic night of her entire life. And when it was time to sleep and Yusrah offered to sleep in her room, she said she wanted to think through her entire life so that when she started telling her everything tomorrow, it would flow out as though she were reading from a book. She hugged her again, kissed her forehead and Nazli had to push her away with a laugh before she separated from her.

So, this is what it felt like to know the mother you've loved so hard and known all your life, whom you've always wished was your biological mother was indeed your birth mother. This is what it felt like to go to bed knowing that you weren't just adopted by that woman, rather, you came from her and she loved you with every fibre of her being? This is what it felt like, not to be an orphan. It was the best feeling on earth.