fatherless

It was a rainy night. The sky roared with thunder, striking the earth with lightning like an enraged giant. The rhythmic patter of raindrops against the windows echoed through the darkness.

In the living room of an old yet elegant wooden mansion, a man sat with a book in his hands. His black hair was streaked with white at the ends, and a faint knife scar marked his face. Beside him, a black cat lay curled up, its breathing slow and steady.

The man's name was Murat. He was lost in the pages of his book when the soft sound of footsteps began to echo from the hallway.

A small boy, the spitting image of Murat's five-year-old self, appeared at the doorway. His curious eyes sparkled as he looked at his father.

"Dad, Dad! Pick me up!" Ali called out, stretching his little arms toward him.

Murat, whose face rarely softened, turned to his son. A smile spread across his lips, quickly turning into laughter. The warmth of his laughter filled the room, yet it could not drown out another voice calling from the hallway.

"My dear, have you seen Ali?"

The voice came from the far end of the mansion. A moment later, the door creaked open, and a woman entered. She wore a long green skirt and a crisp white blouse. Her hair cascaded down her back, and though her expression was tired, her eyes shone with love.

Her name was Yeşim—Murat's wife, Ali's mother.

Still smiling, Murat closed his book.

"Come in, Yeşim. Ali is here with me," he said.

Seeing his mother, Ali scrambled onto his father's lap.

"Mom, I don't want to drink milk! Dad, help me!" he whined.

Murat chuckled, but Yeşim's expression turned slightly stern.

"Ali, come here this instant," she said, her brow furrowing just a little. "Drink your milk and go to bed. We have to wake up early tomorrow."

Ali pouted, turning to his father.

"But I don't like waking up early! And I don't want to go to bed yet!"

Murat smiled, lifting his son into his arms.

"Your mother is right, Ali. But you know what? In your dreams, incredible adventures might be waiting for you. Maybe a pirate ship… maybe a spaceship…"

Ali's eyes lit up. "A spaceship? Then I'll drink my milk and go to bed!"

Yeşim glanced at Murat, shaking her head with a smile. "You always do this."

Murat shrugged, laughing. "Imagination is everything, Yeşim."