Maybe this Time

Chapter 8

Yes! We've finally made it to the last installment of this adventure.

All that's left for me now is to thank each and every one of you for your support and your patience. 

This chapter contains many references to previous events. If you've binge read this story recently or if you have a good memory, you might pick up on some of those!

Happy reading!

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"I don't know what they are called, the spaces between seconds, but I think of you always during those intervals." - Salvador Plascencia

Maybe This Time - Chapter Eight

Ilgaz shifted in the upholstered chair inside the hospital waiting room in search of a better position. His aching muscles protested the uncomfortable seat, but the prosecutor did his best to ignore them.

An old clock on the wall broke the silence by dragging its hour hands rhythmically, but Ilgaz remained completely oblivious to the passing of time. He didn't know if it had been two, twelve, or twenty hours since he'd last looked at the clock, and frankly, he didn't care.

So much had happened on the last day that it seemed impossible to keep track of everything. Events were still so vivid in Ilgaz's mind that even though he believed everything would be alright, he couldn't relax.

Ceylin was on a bed in the intensive care unit just a few feet away from where Ilgaz was, but he couldn't see her. The lawyer had undergone an emergency thoracotomy to repair the damage sustained by the gunshot wound.

Ilgaz didn't even like to remember the panic that had gripped him when the whole scene unfolded.

The distinctive sound of a shot leaving the gun followed by the muffled noise of a bullet piercing the body of the woman he loved would haunt him for many nights to come. For a split second, Ceylin had looked into his eyes. But then her smile suddenly vanished from her face, making Ilgaz believe he had lost her forever.

He had knelt down in despair beside the lawyer while the police force that had accompanied him arrested Professor Sinan and his accomplice.

When the ambulance arrived at the scene a few minutes later, the relief of discovering that Ceylin was still alive was promptly replaced by a new wave of terror. Her life was hanging by a thread.

Upon arriving at the hospital, the prosecutor had experienced the helpless sensation of being unable to do anything. Ilgaz had spent the next few hours standing in the exact same spot he found himself in right now. Gradually, people had joined him. Some had stayed, others had left. But they'd all gone there with the same purpose, getting news on Ceylin's state.

Different emotions were expressed as hours passed. Some had screamed, others had thrown things, and many had cried their hearts out.

But Ilgaz had remained oblivious to any displays of emotion. His impassive expression would fool anyone who didn't know him well into thinking the prosecutor was taking the situation in stride.

But on the inside, Ilgaz felt as if he were at the bottom of a cold, remote well where all voices that reached him were swathed by a veil of fear and agony.

He couldn't lose her. He had just won her back. Ilgaz wouldn't stand it.

The prosecutor bargained with God for the next few hours, unable to voice anything and risk being lost in his own darkness.