Chapter One

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Ayça rolled her suitcase down the ivory brick streets. The warmth rose from the road and smothered her face in a thick blanket of heat. Her pale New York skin was not use to the harsh rays of the Turkish island sun. Even under the highly polarized sunglasses she found herself squinting beneath its bright glare. A bright blue door with an equally bright blue awning caught her attention. In large bold letters there was a sign that read fırıncılık 'Bakery'. She made a beeline towards it, the sound of the wheels of her suitcases roaring loudly in the empty square.

The bakery itself inside was empty except for an elderly couple who were sipping tea and sharing a cake. A man slightly older than her was deeply engrossed by the book in his hand. He didn't even bother to look up when she entered the small establishment. The smell of freshly baked sweet and savory breads tickled her nose. The large boned woman behind the counter had grey hair that was pinned back with a sparkling jewel clip. Her eyes were friendly and she offered her a large smile.

"Can I please have an iced tea and one baklava."

The woman looked at her with confusion and told her they didn't have iced tea.

"What do you have that is cold?"

"Water" 

At this point she would take anything because she was dying of heat and thirst.

"How long will you be visiting our island?"

"I don't know-just a couple of days" Ayça responded barely paying attention to her as she texted Sadik who had bombarded her with millions of questions about the set design. She had left him detailed notes about what to do in her absence and what the guest set designer should do while she was away. But in typical Sadik fashion he was running around like a chicken with his head cut off.

"Where are you staying dear?" she asked as she held out the glass of water towards her.

Ayça continued to text furiously. "Deniz kızı otel"

An odd expression came over the woman but Ayça didn't notice because she was too busy putting out Sadiks fires to notice the change in the woman's demeanor. 

"Why are you staying in that old rundown place?" she asked her voice getting low.

"I inherited it." 

She finished looking up and seeing the glass of water she reached towards it, "Oh thank you my throat is parched." 

But the woman snatched it back and out of her reach.

"Are you a Sancak?" 

Ayça shook her head. "My mother was" 

What happened next was all a blur. The woman in a fury flung the glass down as it shattered into a million pieces. 

"WE DO NOT SERVE SANCAKS HERE!" 

The few patrons that were in the bakery looked up in surprise. The elderly couple with their raisin like faces gawking while frozen in mid bite. The scene that was unfolding was enough to divert the young man's attention from his book as he looked up in her direction. His wavy hair barely grazed the top of his shoulders as he stared wide eyed from behind a pair of black rimmed glasses. He wore a crisp white linen shirt with several buttons that were left unbuttoned to reveal the lines of muscle under the golden tan of his chest.  Ayça locked eyes with him for a brief moment.  Before the woman flew out from behind the counter with a broom and shooed her out of the store slamming the door shut. 

Never in her entire life had she ever been treated so poorly. Usually whenever people heard her father's surname doors and red carpets would be laid out of her. Clearly this was not the same for the woman who had birthed her. After the harrowing incident in the bakery, she made it a point to keep her lineage specifically the one from her mothers side a secret. It seems her mother managed to make enemies everywhere that she went. After getting lost three times due to the poor directions given or her poor ability to follow directions she wasn't entirely sure which she finally made it to the hotel. Her shoes and suitcase were covered in a fine layer of dust from the dirt road that she had to trek across. The island did not have an active taxi system and to further complicate things the hotel was located on the outskirts of the town. 

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