2.

Zoe was packing clothes into a suitcase when her phone started ringing loudly with her mother's ringtone. She hesitated before picking it up. She really didn't want to deal with her. Gritting her teeth, Zoe tapped the screen anyway.

"Hey, Mom," she answered, tucking the phone between her neck and shoulder while she zipped up her bags.

"Happy birthday, muffin!" Anita cooed from a beach in Mykonos. Zoe could see her in her mind's eye—tall, tanned, dressed in a white kaftan and with her bronze hair loose and wild in the sea breeze. No doubt there was also a cocktail in her hand.

"Thanks, Mom. How's Greece?" she asked.

"Fabulous as always. Please tell me you're going to do something with some friends tonight? You need to get out of the house more, Zoe. Flat sharing with your mom is bad enough at your age," Anita babbled on, telling Zoe she was definitely a few margaritas in already.

Zoe didn't bother trying to correct her mother that she was only staying in the upstairs half of the house because Anita had thrown a tantrum when she had tried to move out. Her mother liked to forget those facts when she was drinking.

"Actually, Mom, I'm going to get away for a few days." Zoe took a deep breath and added in a rush, "I'm going to Istanbul because I inherited the bookstore."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Zoe braced herself mentally for the storm that was about to hit. She picked up her suitcase and started carrying it downstairs, determined not to change her mind.

"Is Kerem there?" Anita asked finally, her voice colder than Zoe had ever heard it.

Zoe paused on the step. "Yeah, he is. How… How did you know that?"

Kerem was suddenly before her, taking the suitcase from her and carrying it the rest of the way down.

"Put him on the phone, Zoe," Anita demanded, ignoring her question.

Zoe offered the phone to Kerem. "Sorry, she wants to talk to you."

" Merhaba, Anita. It has been a long time," Kerem answered, his voice smooth as silk. He shot Zoe a reassuring wink. She couldn't hear anything her mother was saying except for loud squawking noises that said she was chewing him out.

"Ah. Hmm. Yes, I understand, but Zoe is a grown woman, and it is time she had her inheritance. Ah huh. Well, Zoe is capable of making her own decisions. She's not a little girl anymore. I will ensure she's well looked after. Hmmm. Yes, well you walked away from us first. Don't forget that." Kerem went silent as Anita blared over the top of him. "It is none of your business whether Kahil is involved either. Zoe will be fine. She has family in Istanbul that deserve to know her. Goodbye, Anita."

Kerem handed the phone back to Zoe, blowing out a frustrated breath.

"Yeah, she's like that," Zoe told him before lifting the phone back to her ear. "I don't know what's going on, Mom, but going back to Istanbul will be good for me. I need closure."

"You need to stay as far away from your father's messes as possible!" Anita shouted at her. It wasn't in anger; it was fear. Her mother was worried about her and had never learned how to express it properly. Zoe really hated being the adult some days.

"Mom, stop yelling at me. I'm going to find out answers because clearly, you're not going to give them to me, are you?" Zoe said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Go with Kerem then, but don't come crying to me when he and that fucking city ruin your life," her mother snapped and hung up on her. Zoe lowered the phone and took a long, deep breath in and then let it out.

"Are you okay?" Kerem asked, placing a warm hand on her shoulder.

"I'm fine. She's… She can be a lot of work sometimes," Zoe replied, embarrassed that he'd been dragged in their family drama.

Kerem laughed softly. "She always was high-spirited. Your hair color is the same as hers, but that's where the similarity ends."

"Thanks. Who's Kahil?" Zoe asked, pulling on her leather jacket. It wasn't the name of any of her cousins that she knew of.

"Oh, he's a friend of the family. I'm sure he'll be around at some point. Nothing to worry about. Shall we go?" Kerem said. He pulled out the handle on her suitcase and wheeled it to the door.

Zoe double-checked her locks and turned the lights out. "Let's get out of here."

It wasn't until she was in the air, somewhere over Europe, that Zoe's common sense finally caught up to her.

What the hell are you doing running away to Istanbul? She had pushed down her yearning for the city and her father years ago. Now she was about to throw herself into a past she could barely remember. Would it help her get over her grief? Or ensure she would never recover?

Zoe tried to squash her unease, hiding it from Kerem, who sat beside her. They were in first class, so she signaled to the flight attendant and ordered another red wine.

"You're making the right decision, Zoe," Kerem said, not looking up from the newspaper he was reading on his iPad.

"Is my freakout that obvious?" she asked. She forced her leg to stop jumping and accepted her wine from the flight attendant. She would've loved a Valium to mix with it.

Kerem patted her arm, and the touch reassured her. "You're doing great with all of this. I actually thought you would be far more upset over it."

"That will happen later, when I'm alone," she replied. It wasn't a joke. She would get to Istanbul, find the nearest shower, and have a meltdown. "I should have returned to Turkey earlier. I really thought Mom had sold the bookstore after Dad's death. I didn't question it."

"You were a child who witnessed something terrible, Zoe. It's natural that you wanted to move on from it."

Zoe stared up at the air conditioner vent like it might have some answers for her. "Kerem, can you tell me something to distract me?"

"Like what?"

"Anything. I don't know. In his letter my dad mentioned something called the Order. What's that about?" Zoe didn't remember her parents being a part of any orders or even religious groups.

"The Order of Saint Christóphoros. We were friends of your father when he was alive," Kerem said, pushing back a curl that had escaped from his swept back hairstyle.

"You are a part of the order too?"

"For many, many years now."

"Are they like the Freemasons? That kind of thing?"

Kerem laughed. "Something like that. They are good people, Zoe. If you wish to meet them while you are home, I can arrange it."

Zoe chewed on the inside of her cheek. "I don't get it. Dad wasn't religious. Why would he be in the order of an Orthodox saint?"

"His involvement wasn't about religion, but contacts and friendships. Don't let it concern you too much, Zoe. Focus on the bookstore first. Worry about everything else later," he replied and went back to his paper.

Zoe drank wine and read for the remaining two hours of their flight. Her mind was exploding with questions, but Kerem was right. She needed to focus on the bookstore and getting her scattered emotions under control.

That plan lasted right up until they were driving from the airport and into Istanbul itself. Zoe was excited, admiring how green the forest was on the drive in. Once they reached the city, her heart started to hurt as memories flooded her mind. She kept breathing, focusing on the craziness of the drivers and fighting back tears. This was the city of her birth, and something tugged deep inside of her that said she was home.

The streets narrowed as they reached the Tarlabasi neighborhood, and Zoe got flashes of memories—walking the hills around Galata Tower with her father beside her, eating gelato at a cafe, going to shop at a tiny convenience store with Anita.

They pulled up in a side street with a cafe and restaurant directly across from them.

Zoe couldn't move from her seat. Her whole body locked up like she had sleep paralysis all over again. Kerem opened the car door for her and offered her a hand to help her out. She took it, her heart racing as she looked at the bookstore. The indigo blue paint had faded, but the bronze sign on the shop's door shone brightly—Kartal Rare Books. Someone had papered up the windows in the front, but other than that, everything appeared the same. Zoe was going to throw up.

"Here are the keys," Kerem said cheerily, pulling them from his pocket and passing them to her.

"I don't… I don't know what to do," Zoe admitted to him.

Kerem squeezed her shoulder. "Go and settle in, Zoe. I know that it was cleaned for your arrival and the apartment upstairs organized. Call me tomorrow, and we can settle the legal side of things."

Zoe nodded and offered him a tight smile. "Thank you, Kerem. Um, good night, I guess?"

"Happy birthday, Zoe." Kerem smiled warmly at her. "Welcome home."