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Fırat Koroğlu had me taken out of my own home with a dozen men at his side. I had no choice but to submit; I forced myself to accept it. For my brother's happiness—however that was supposed to exist in a situation like this—and for my sister's safety, I bowed my head.
Holding my hand tightly, Fırat Koroğlu dragged me out of the house. When we stepped outside into the yard, I saw nearly a dozen black vehicles lined up in front of our home. It was as if they had raided us with an army. We got into a black jeep in the middle of the convoy and drove off. I didn't know where they lived or where we were going. I had only seen him a few times before, briefly, in the marketplace. Other than that, I didn't even know where his house was—and it didn't matter anymore.
Most young and beautiful girls in Mardin had their eyes on him. But my only goal had been to study. I was still so young, and all I wanted was to stand on my own feet.
I pressed my trembling hands into my lap. He sat beside me, legs spread comfortably, while I kept my knees tightly pressed together, shaking with fear. We didn't speak during the entire ride. I couldn't say a single word. He knew exactly where he was taking me—and what would happen to me.
I wanted to cry, but I thought of Berra and tried to calm myself. It could have been her in my place. At least her life was spared… at least she might have a good life.
No matter how much I tried to steady myself, I was terrified—shaking uncontrollably.
After about twenty minutes, the car turned into a street, slowed down, and stopped. Fırat Koroğlu stepped out, and one of the men sitting in the front opened my door. They were probably his guards. A man who needed this many guards clearly lived a dangerous life.
He came to my side again, grabbed my hand, and pulled me along as if dragging me toward the house. Doors opened before us as we approached. In front of me stood a massive mansion—far larger and more beautiful than anything I had ever seen. It had three floors, an enormous garden, and even a pool almost the size of our entire house. A few women stood in the garden; I didn't know who they were. Women in such tribes rarely went outside, and if they did, they were always covered.
Would I be locked away here like them now? This place was like a golden cage… and I was about to live one of the lives I had always judged.
If I even survived.
My legs trembled as I walked, occasionally faltering, but Fırat didn't care at all. If I slowed, he would pull me back up and drag me forward again. I didn't dare say anything. I was afraid he would get even angrier and hurt my family. I had to think of them more than myself. If my brother hadn't thought… if my father hadn't thought… then I had to.
Then I had to be braver than the men in my family.
When the servant opened the door and we stepped inside, a vast hallway stretched before me. Wooden staircases rose on both sides, leading upward. There was a large balcony above, ceilings nearly five meters high, a huge chandelier, and statues decorating the house. Without stopping, Fırat pulled me straight ahead into a large living room.
Once inside, he shoved me onto a couch.
I glared at him angrily as he still held my arm.
"Don't look at me like that," he warned, wagging his finger. "I brought you here, but my anger hasn't cooled. If I get my hands on your brother, I'll beat him so badly no one will be able to take him from me. I won't kill him with a gun—I'll beat him until his last breath."
He paced around the room, furious.
Soon, the women I had seen outside entered. Among them was an older woman—dressed in black, with a fuller figure and a black headscarf. Her facial features resembled Fırat's. After she spoke, I understood who she was.
"Is this their daughter?" she asked, looking at me as if I were the one who had kidnapped her child.
"Yes, mother," Fırat said, rubbing the back of his neck. "There was nothing else I could do. I took their daughter."
"This is what tradition demands," she said. "You did what you had to do. It won't ease our pain, but there's nothing else left to be done."
She turned to me. "What's her name?"
My throat was dry—I hadn't even had a glass of water all day. I swallowed with difficulty and said, "Zerda," in a hoarse voice.
"Come with me," she said calmly.
I stood up and followed her. She led me upstairs, opened the first door, and entered. A woman lay on the bed with her back to us. Next to the bed was a baby crib—white, covered with tulle, soft like a nest.
The woman approached the crib and picked up the baby. The baby had woken up but wasn't crying—he was smiling.
"Come with me. Close the door quietly," she said.
I did as told and followed her to another room. This one was clearly her own bedroom. There were photos on the nightstands—one of her with an older man, another of Fırat alone.
She sat down with the baby and looked at me.
"Listen carefully," she began, without even looking directly at me. "This is my grandson—Fırat's son, Cihan. And I am your mother-in-law from today forward: Mevan. My late husband was Zeynel Koroğlu…"
She sighed, then continued.
"From now on, you are Fırat's co-wife. Yes, he has a wife—but not the kind you're thinking. There's no real marriage between them. That woman deceived my son… showed up months later saying she had his child. We had no choice but to marry them. Otherwise, I would never have accepted her."
She spoke with disgust.
"It turns out she has cancer. Fırat pitied her and married her, but she's in her final days. She will die. And the child will be left behind."
She looked at me again.
"Your duty is simple. Show respect to your elders—especially your husband. Take care of this child as if he were your own. And take care of his mother too. The servants will handle the rest. Just do as you're told."
Then she lifted her gaze and locked eyes with me.
"The more respect you show Fırat… the more you cherish Cihan… the happier Fırat will make you."
Her eyes were gray—just like his.
She extended her hand. I immediately kissed it and touched it to my forehead.
"Yes, ma'am," I said quietly.
She smiled. "Such a respectful girl. Good. Stay like this."
She had no idea why I was acting this way.
"May I leave now?" I asked.
She handed me the baby. "First, change him. Feed him. Then put him to sleep."
"I… I can't breastfeed him," I said nervously.
She laughed. "Of course not. Tell the maid to bring the milk his mother prepared."
I nodded and carried the baby back.
His mother was still asleep. I felt sorry for her. A woman with cancer… perhaps she would die without ever seeing her child grow up.
I changed the baby and went downstairs to find the kitchen. I didn't know how to address them properly, so I hesitated awkwardly.
"I want to feed Cihan… is the milk in the fridge?" I asked.
A young girl brought it, warmed it, and handed it to me.
I went to the living room—but suddenly a man stormed in.
"What are you doing here?" he shouted.
I froze.
"You're that bastard's sister, aren't you?"
"Yes," I stammered.
"Then get the hell upstairs. Don't come down again. You are not part of this house."
Tears filled my eyes. Clutching Cihan tightly, I ran upstairs.
His mother was awake now.
She was… unbelievably beautiful. But she had no hair, no eyebrows, no eyelashes. A scarf covered her head.
"Who are you?" she demanded, pulling her baby from my arms.
"I… Fırat brought me here. He said I should take care of Cihan…"
"I don't want that! I will take care of my own child. Get out!"
I was thrown out once again.
No one wanted me here.
No one.
I curled up on a chair outside, hugging my knees. I was freezing despite the summer heat.
"It could have been Berra," I whispered to myself.
That thought was the only thing keeping me strong.
After a while, I heard footsteps.
Fırat was coming upstairs.
I immediately stood up, lowering my gaze.
"What are you doing here?" he roared. "Didn't I tell you to take care of Cihan?"
He grabbed my chin harshly, forcing me to look at him.
"Answer me immediately when I speak!"
"Your wife didn't want me there," I said. "I fed him, changed him… but she sent me away."
He released me and stormed into the room.
Soon, shouting erupted.
"I said I don't want it! I will take care of my child!"
"You can't even take care of yourself!"
His cruelty stunned me.
Moments later, he came out again and called for a servant.
"From now on, you'll take care of the child."
Then he turned to me.
Grabbing my arm, he dragged me upstairs again.
"This floor is forbidden," he said coldly. "You will stay on the second and third floors only. You won't go downstairs. You won't even step onto the balcony without my permission."
I stared at him.
"So you didn't bring me here as a wife… but as a slave."
He stepped closer.
"You are a slave," he said. "My slave. You will do whatever I say."
My heart sank.
"Now go to the room," he ordered.
I froze.
"Don't worry," he added. "I won't touch you tonight. There's no marriage yet. After the religious ceremony… you will become my wife."
His eyes darkened.
"And I will make you pay for everything your brother did."