After making sure Dilan was okay. Baran left the room despite her protests. Who dared to speak with his cousin before he could? He caught up with his father and brother, who were bringing Firat to the living room. They let him go, and Baran faced him. When his cousin's eyes landed on him, he went off again—this time, he pulled a gun out and held it on his side. Firat was so fast; everyone was stunned. "I don't know what game you are playing, and I don't care. You will take back the accusations against my father or..." Baran approached him. Firat's reaction was to point the gun at Baran. "Baran!" He heard Dilan scream fearfully from behind. "Son, lower your gun." Ms. Azade pleaded with him. Baran eyed his father and brother. He didn't want them interfering and the gun going off inside the house. "Everyone, calm down," Baran yelled as he raised his hand to make everyone quiet. "Firat, put down the gun, and let's talk." His cousin's hand was trembling. "There is nothing to talk about." Baran thought about the family. For them, he had to control himself. "I don't know what you were told, but I call you to speak to you face to face. I wanted for you to hear things from us..." His cousin interrupted him. "Why? So you could manipulate me?" He denied it with his head. "I wish this was all a lie, Firat. Do you think I take any pleasure in this?" Firat was troubled, but he didn't desist. "You never liked my father or me. You were waiting for the opportunity..." His father spoke. "It is not a lie, Firat. It is all true. My brother, he... he killed my Ayten in front of my eyes." A tear rolled down his father's face. He was remembering.
"You remember wrong, uncle. You were shot. Your recollection of that day can't be trusted. My father had no reason. Why would he do that to his brother's wife? Why?" Baran closed his eyes. The moment his mother came in between him and the bullet. That moment replayed in his mind. He almost whispered. "Maybe she wasn't the target...but me." His cousin heard him. His head was bent to the side, his eyes blinking fast. He was trying hard to process what he was hearing. "No, it can't be. He could not have done that. It was Seyit. It was that man." Baran opened his eyes and saw Firat coming at him with the gun. "You are coming with me to the police, or I'll shoot." Baran knew his cousin didn't have it in him. He had pointed the gun at Baran once before and was not able to pull the trigger. "Then you have to shoot, Firat." Baran heard Dilan's scream on the back. "No!" The sound distracted his cousin long enough for Baran to snatch the gun out of his hand. He cried in Baran's arms and crumbled to the ground. "It can't be. It can't." Baran handed the gun to Cihan and went to Firat. "Look at me, Firat. Look at me." He refused to raise his head. Baran felt Dilan's hand on his back. He moved, and Dilan approached his cousin. "Firat, I know what you are going through is hard. I went through the same when Baran told me about that night. I struggled with it for days before I could accept his words. I even went to ask my father 'cause I could not believe it." His head remained down, but he spoke. "But your father turned out to be innocent." Dilan put her hand on his shoulder. "Not entirely, Firat. Your father... My father did shoot Mr. Kudret."
"Let me share with you the only thing I'm certain of... Your father's wrongdoings are not yours. You were not there that day, and you are not to blame for anything that happened... This is still your family, Firat. That won't ever change." Slowly, he raised his head. First, he looked at Dilan. She saw a fearful child in his eyes. Fearful and disturbed. Baran must have seen it, too, cause he went to hug him. "You are my cousin, Firat. You are a Karabey." Firat held on to the shoulders of Baran's suit as he cried. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Dilan could tell the appreciation Baran felt for Firat. "You have nothing to apologize for, Firat. As Dilan said, it is not your fault." Letting go and cleaning his face, he looked at her husband. "I need to go and talk to him. I need to look him in the eyes." Cihan helped him up as their father spoke. "I don't think it is a good idea, nephew. He will not acknowledge what he did." Firat turned to Mr. Kudret. "Maybe he won't, but I need to do this." Baran put his hand on Firat's shoulder. "Kerem is there. He can arrange for you to see him." He got up to leave and extended his hand to Cihan. "Can I have my gun back?" His brother looked at Baran, who nodded. Firat put away his weapon and headed up the stairs. Ms. Azade stopped him. "Firat..." He indicated no with his head. "Grandmother, we both need to accept the truth." He left, and Ms. Azade collapsed. Kader went to her and prevented her from falling. "Defne!" Dilan called. When the girl arrived, Dilan instructed her to help Ms. Kader and take Ms. Azade to her room. She also told them to take her blood pressure and administer her medicine. The woman left crying loudly. Broken. The reality finally seemed to be sinking in.
Baran had gone to his study while Mr. Kudret and Cihan looked at each other, relieved. "Are you okay? Do you want me to bring you anything?" Her father-in-law answered her questions. "No child... We just need to sit down for a bit. Too many things are happening together." She agreed with him. "I'm going to check on Baran." Dilan headed for the study and stopped at the door. Her hands were trembling. Watching Baran with a gun pointed at him was nerve-wracking. For a moment, she feared the pain and anger could cloud Firat's mind, and he would shoot. Dilan shook her head as if the movement would help prevent her fears from becoming a reality. She opened the door without knocking. When she saw Baran standing against the bookshelf behind his desk with his back to her, her fear was replaced with anger. "What was that back then?" He turned and seemed bewildered by her sudden outburst. "What are you talking about?" Dilan went to him. "What am I talking about? You dared him to shoot you, Baran. How could you do that? What if he had done it? Then what? What would I do? Did you think of that at all?" Baran put his hands on her shoulder, but she shook him off. "Don't." He tried again, but she raised her hand to stop him. She was more than angry. She was hurt. How could he be so reckless with his life? "Fine, if you don't want me to come close, I won't. But..." She cut in. "But what, Baran? How are you going to explain your behavior?" He sighed before he spoke. "Dilan, I know Firat. He would have never taken the shot..." She was about to disagree. However, this time, it was he who raised his hand. "My father and Cihan were on guard. They were ready to stop him if he had attempted anything."
Instead of reassuring her, his words appeared to have the opposite effect. "So you accept that it was a possibility?" he pressed his lips together. "Whenever guns are involved, there is always a possibility, Dilan. It could have gone off by accident. But I believe that he would have never pressed the trigger." She turned to leave. Her rage did not diminish. He went to her and hugged her. She struggled to escape his hold, but he didn't let her. "Dilan, please. What would you have me do instead?" She stood still. "Not provoking him, for one." He buried his head in her hair. He was exhausted. So many things have happened since he opened his eyes that morning. The day didn't seem to end. "I just did what I thought was best at the moment. I intended to speak to him calmly. But you saw him. Whoever spoke to him first put us all in danger." Dilan reached for him and caressed his cheek. "Never do that again, Baran. Never." He remained silenced. He did not know what the future hold. She turned in his arms. "Baran." He silenced her with a kiss. She pulled back. "No, I'm still angry at you." He smirked at her. "I'm serious, Baran." He knew she was, but she was cute when she was like this. "When I saw the gun pointed at you. I was so scared, Baran. If something were to happen to you. I don't think I would be able to cope with it. So you need to be careful. Because my life is tied to yours, Baran." He pulled her closer. "And mine to yours, Dilan. You don't have to explain yourself because I feel the same, my angel... I was dead before you, and I will be dead after you. It is just a fact."
This time, she kissed him. "Don't talk like that. No one is going to die. We will grow old together, and we will die only after having a fulfilling life." He agreed. They sat in silence for a while. "I'm so tired, Dilan." He confessed. "Let's go upstairs." He let her lead him upstairs. On their way, they encountered Cihan and his dad. "How is Ms. Azade?" His brother answered. "Ms. Kader told us she fell asleep after taking her medicines." Baran continued his way. At the top of the stairs, his phone rang. "Kerem?" His friend spoke. "Baran, Firat was just here. He talked with Mr. Hassan. He didn't look good when he left." Baran was instantly worried. "Thank you for letting me know, Kerem." The call ended. "Did something happen?" Baran leaned against the wall. "Firat... Kerem said he was in bad shape after speaking with his father," Dilan replied. "It is normal, Baran. Accepting that your father caused the death of someone is hard, and someone related to you, I can't imagine... From what I heard, Firat loved your mom." Baran nodded. "He did, and she loved him. She always included him in whatever we were doing whenever he was in Istanbul. She would take us all to the park or out to eat. And never made a distinction between us and Firat." Remembering his mother like this was not so painful for Baran anymore. He could smile and find joy in the memories. "I have no idea where he could have gone... I'll go downstairs and ask Cihan." Dilan held his hand. "Baran... Gül. Maybe he talked to her, or he will meet her." Baran took out his phone again to call Gül. She answered immediately. "Mr. Baran? I'm at the airport." He glanced at Dilan. "Why? Did Firat contact you?" Baran was worried for his cousin.
Dilan was pacing the room. The problems didn't seem to end. She was waiting for a call from Baran. 'What is taking him so long?' Someone knocked on the door. "Come in." It was Cihan. "Has my brother called you?" Dilan indicated no with her head. "I should have gone with him." She went to her brother-in-law and put a hand on his back. "He wanted to go alone, Cihan." He looked worried. "I should have insisted until he agreed." Dilan felt the same, but her husband ordered them to stay home. "Do you think he found Firat?" Dilan thought about it. "If anyone knows where he could have gone, it is Gül. I'm sure he is with Firat now." She was trying to be optimistic about the whole situation. "Where is your father?" Cihan looked out the door. "He went to his room. He is not well either, Dilan. The fact that my brother refuses to speak with him..." She could imagine. But Baran was also entitled to his feelings. This secret was too big, too hard to digest. "He will speak to him, Cihan. He just needs time. Your brother... This is not easy for him." Cihan agreed. "I know, Dilan. He was there. He saw my mother dying. It is different for him than it is for me. His wound is bigger, deeper." There was nothing more to add to that. "I'll go to my dad." She nodded, and he left. Dilan was again alone. She looked at her phone screen. Nothing yet. It had been an hour since Baran went out of the mansion. She picked up a book under the tv and sat on the sofa. She opened the book. The words were before her; she was reading them but wasn't holding the information. Her mind was with her husband. She put it aside and rechecked her phone.
Baran found Firat, where Gül told him. He was at Baran's mother's grave. He was speaking to her while crying. From what he could hear, his cousin was apologizing for what his dad did to her. Baran could not get near him. He was not ready to face his mother. He decided to watch over him for the time being. Let him get it out of his chest first. Baran saw his cousin saying a prayer, and then he turned to leave. When he lifted his head, he saw Baran there. Firat walked towards him. "Are you okay?" He cleaned his tears. "How did you know I was here?" Baran studied his face. "Gül told me. I insisted. I was worried, Firat. We all were." His cousin began walking towards the exit. "Don't worry about me, cousin. I'm sure that whatever I'm going through is nothing compared to what you are feeling." Baran walked behind him. "What I'm feeling is different, Firat. It doesn't mean it is harder or easier. It's just is." Firat stopped and turned. "You, acting like this... It doesn't help, Baran." He put his hands in his pockets. "I can't act differently..." Firat interrupted him. "You should be screaming. Taking a swing at me. You should blame me... You should hate me." Tears fell from his cousin's eyes. "I can't do any of that Firat. It is not your fault." Firat pushed him. "Do it. I would do it if I were you." He pushed him again. "Come on, do it. I've done things you don't know about." Another push. "Firat, enough! No matter how much you try, I won't do it." Firat didn't stop; this time, he tried to punch Baran. His fist came close to Baran's face. But he dodge it on time. "I said, enough!" Another attempt. This time, it was successful. Baran hit back with force. His cousin fell to the ground. Not from the punch. He fell more for the weight of the guilt.
Baran knelt in front of him while cleaning the corner of his mouth. "Don't do it, Firat. This sin is not yours to carry. Don't let it bury you, cousin." His cousin was destroyed. The whole family was. But he couldn't let that happen. Baran could not see his loved ones in pain. He helped Firat up. "Let's go home." His cousin resisted him. "I can't. I can't look at my uncle in the eyes, Cihan, you... I can't." This approach was not working. "Enough! You're coming with me. I'm not asking Firat. I'm ordering you. Now walk." He dragged his cousin to the truck and headed to the mansion. Both remained silent on their way. They stopped at a traffic light. Baran checked on his phone. He had several missing calls from Dilan and Cihan. He managed to write a short text before the light changed. "We are heading home." 'Dilan would tell the rest of the family.' He thought. Cihan, his father, and Dilan were waiting outside when they arrived at the mansion. "Firat, nephew. You had us worried." His father hugged him, and Cihan joined them. "Don't do this to us again, cousin," Cihan said. Dilan went to Baran, and he hugged her. She whispered in his ear. "Are you okay?" He inhaled her scent. "Now I am." Pulling back, he ordered everyone inside the mansion. "We should all get some rest." He left Firat with his father and walked with Dilan upstairs to their bedroom. Baran lay flat on the bed. "Baran, you need to change clothing, and I need to clean that wound on your lip." He just wanted to fall asleep fast and let this day be over. "I don't have the strength, Dilan." A few minutes went by, and he felt her hands on him. She disinfected his wound. Then she took off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt.
She knew Baran's eyes were on her. "What are you doing?" She didn't stop while talking. "You need a good rest and won't get that in this cloth." Baran cooperated with her until she wanted to put a shirt on him. "I'll sleep like this. It is not that cold." She didn't insist and covered him with the duvet. Dilan put away the cloth and returned to join him. She adjusted herself to sleep and felt Baran's arms pulling at her. She turned to him and nestled on his chest. It was not long before she was asleep. Dilan woke up early in the morning. She felt the bed, searching for Baran. He was not there, and the space was cold. She was alone in the room. Dilan got up and entered the bathroom. Also empty. She washed her face, wore more appropriate clothing, and returned to her room. She scanned the surrounding areas from the windows, but he was nowhere to be found. 'Where is he?' Dilan wondered. She went downstairs and walked inside the house. Empty. Everyone was still asleep, and there was no sign of Baran. She went outside through the front door. She saw a security guard and decided to ask him. "Have you seen my husband?" The guard pointed to the storage place. What was he doing there? She headed in that direction when she started hearing grunting sounds. He was hitting something. Dilan rushed in, worried. She opened the door and found Baran punching a sandbag repeatedly with no gloves on. He had been at it long as he was drenched in sweat. His hair was all wet, falling on his forehead—rage and distress combined in the tears that were falling from his eyes. "Baran!" She called for him, but he didn't hear her. He was consumed in the moment. In the emotions inside of him. The closer she got, the more evident it was. His hands were all bloody. She needed to stop him somehow.
Dilan put her hand in between him and the sandbag. She thought he would hit her, but he stopped just in time. His expression was like someone who had stayed too long in the dark and could not adjust to the light. He lowered his hands and seemed to be trying to focus his eyes. He took a few steps back until he hit the wall behind him. His energy drained from the punches and the events of the previous day. Dilan reached to hold him, but he dodged her, moving his head to the sides and letting himself slide to the floor. She went to him without hesitation and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Baran." His name came out of her in silence as she wept for the man she loved. He was destroyed. The burden on his shoulder was too heavy now. He was crushed under it. She saw his effort to be strong for his family. To keep them all together. The problem with that was standing strong meant he had to negate his feelings. He could not afford to show weakness or pain. He needed to be level-headed—the mountain where they all rested. What Dilan just witnessed was the toll it took on him. She witnessed the mounting collapsing. Baran was still not acknowledging her. Dilan needed to get him out of that state. She pulled back and held his head in her hands. Her voice was firm. "Baran, look at me." He tried to get out of her hold. "Look at me, Baran!" Her tone was higher. "Baran, focus on me." She shook his shoulders slightly. This time, his eyes landed on her. "You are with me, your Dilan. We are in the storage room together. You are not alone, my Baran. I carry this burden with you. You can take shelter in my arms."
Baran saw Dilan extending her arms to him. He hid himself in them. She wrapped her arms around him as he let his head rest on her chest, his home. "Dilan!" he closed his eyes, listening to the beat of her heart. "I'm here, Baran. I'm with you. I will always be with you." He knew that. However, being the leader of the clan was a lonely position. There were things he didn't have the luxury to do or feel. Last night, he tried to fall asleep. But every time he did, he replayed the memory of his mother dying in front of him. Then, her face would be replaced with Dilan's. He decided not to sleep to keep his nightmares at bay. However, not sleeping meant thinking of his father in his silence. Trying to get those thoughts out of his head, he walked around the mansion's grounds, and without knowing it, he ended up in the storage room. He saw the bag hanging in the far end. He hit it repeatedly and slowly; the pain in his knuckles replaced the pain inside him. That pain he could deal with. He continued hitting it despite his fatigue. He punched the bag until he was numb, inside and out. His eyes saw nothing. He felt nothing... Until Dilan came. His angel pulled him once more out of the darkness. "Dilan, I know I'm supposed to be strong..." "Shh! You are not, Baran. Not with me. Yesterday, I worried a lot about you. I knew you were burying your feelings instead of dealing with them. I also know why you felt you had to do that. But this..." She grabbed one of his hands. "This is not the answer, either." He rubbed his head against her. He wanted to get her scent on him. "You should have woken me up, Baran. We should have talked this out. I could have helped you." He felt her crying, and he could not allow that. He sat straight. "I will, next time, I will. I promise, my angel." He dried her tears. She lifted his hands and kissed each of his palms. "It doesn't hurt." She didn't look convinced. "Let's go to our room. Your hands need tending."