An inhuman cry broke the morning silence of a sleepy, family-run mini-hotel nestled in the seaside part of Marseille. Residents looked out of the windows, overlooked the courtyard and looked around in fear in search of the source of the sound. The cry came from a corner room on the first floor. Wiping her apron with wet hands, the hostess of the hotel was already running there.

She opened the front door and like an arrow flew into the room. A tenant, a beautiful Turk, always cold and detached, who lived apart and did not communicate with anyone, lay crooked on the floor and shouted in a terrible, uterine voice.

The woman ran up and crouched beside him. Carefully touching his shoulder, she asked:

- Monsieur! Monsieur, what's up with you?

He did not answer. He moaned through clenched teeth and squeezed his head with twisted fingers in a death grip. On the forehead veins rose, the tightly stretched skin of the cheekbones on the eyes turned into earthy gray parchment. Next to the man was a telephone on the floor. The screen glowed and a voice was heard from the speakers. The woman picked it up and held it to her ear.

"Hello, I'm the owner of the hotel," she said.

- Madame! Madame! Help him! - shouted in English unfamiliar male voice.

"Explain what happened, and I will try to help," trying to stop the panic, she sternly told.

The man spoke. Confusing English and French words he told her about the tragedy. She listened, set the phone aside and leaned over the tenant again. He no longer shouted, only groaned and repeated, like a prayer, the female name:

- Defne ... Defne ... Defne.

The woman already knew - that is the name of his wife.

"Monsieur," she squeezed his shoulder, "look at me."

The tenant obediently opened his eyes. There was so much pain and hopeless despair in them that her heart ached. She helped him up and sat on the bed. She poured a glass of water from the carafe and gave it to him. He shook his head, and she put the glass on the table. Then she sat down beside him and spoke:

- Monsieur Omer, your wife is alive and will live. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about. Sometimes people are in a coma for weeks and months, and then come to their senses and return to normal life. So it was with my son ... Just do not give up and with all your heart believe in her recovery. And yet ... doctors do not have the right to turn off the life support apparatus without the consent of close relatives.

Her words penetrated the brain and sobered him. The chaos of thoughts calmed down and Omer felt that he could control them again. The last words of the woman made him grab onto his feet, find the phone and call Sinan. He answered after the first beep.

- Sinan! - shouted in the mobile Omer. - Who permitted to turn off the machine?

"Grandma Türkan," he answered.

- Why? !!!

"The doctors said that Defne doesn't have a chance to live, and she has to pay a lot of money to continue her life support system. Topalov doesn't have them.

- I have!!! - face, just a minute ago, sallow and pale, turned red. Eyes burned dark fire. Omer rushed around the room and threw evil phrases into the phone. - I am the husband of Defne !!! She's been in a coma for five days, but I don't know anything! Why?!

"Defne's relatives decided that you were indifferent to her fate and they forbade me to report the incident," Sinan honestly answered. - But I thought - you should say goodbye. I will not forgive myself if ...

- What have you been saying: say goodbye, say goodbye. Defne will not die! I will not allow this. Please contact the hospital and say that I do not permit to turn off the device and pay for all necessary treatment. I fly out at eleven in the morning. Let Sukru meet me at the airport.

Omer, as if he hadn't been hysterical on the floor a couple of minutes ago, gave clear orders, and Sinan soared up in spirit. Yes! It's him. Omer Iplikci. A person who solves any problem and stops death itself.

His brother is back!

Omer completed the call and turned to the hotel owner. She stood by the door and watched him carefully. Seeing that the man pulled himself together, said:

"I'll call a taxi for you." Check-in for the flight will begin in half an hour. Hurry up.

She was already outside the door when Omer called out to her:

- Madame Adele!

The woman looked back.

- Thank you.

She nodded silently and closed the door behind her. From the courtyard was heard her voice:

- All is well, gentlemen! Return to your numbers. Monsieur Omer just had a bad dream.

Omer automatically, like a robot, performed the necessary actions. Passed the registration, handed luggage. Fulfilled the requirements of the customs service and airport workers, and thoughts were near Defne. Her name was beating heart. And he knew - she is alive.

Fifteen minutes left before landing. Omer walked up to the huge window and, staring blankly at the runways, called Sinan. He immediately picked up the phone and assured that he fulfilled all the requests. Defne is under close medical supervision, and her attending doctor is waiting for Omer to settle the formalities.

"Tell me what happened after all," Omer asked.

A few seconds in the phone silence reigned, and then Sinan spoke:

- Defne ... She was on the waterfront. Most likely she was dizzy and she fell into the water. In that place, it is very deep. By the time she was pulled out, more than five minutes had passed. The ambulance arrived instantly, she was reanimated. She even came to her senses ... and then fainted and fell into a coma. Doctors do everything possible, but ... there is no brain activity.

Omer closed his eyes. A tear rolled out from under his closed eyelashes and ran down his cheek. He brushed it with his hand and hoarsely asked Sinan:

"Please go to her room and say ... tell her that I love her."

Sukru was already waiting for him in the arrival hall. Omer did not waste time on luggage. Having ordered to deliver the suitcase to his home, he quickly headed for the car.

"Sukru, we're going to the hospital," he ordered abruptly and sat in the front seat.

Defne's place. He wanted to feel closer to her. Even so.

The faithful Sukru was not surprised. He sat in the driver's seat, started the car, but did not hurry to get underway. He turned and looked guiltily at his dear boss. And then, slightly stammering, said:

- Mr.Omer, I saw her that day ...saw Defne. Brought her a lawyer. She opened the door herself. She was so thin and pale. She doesn't look like herself ... The girl suffered so much ... she suffered so much.

An invisible fist hit Omer in the chest and kicked out all the air. Self-contempt has become unbearable. Having received documents for a divorce, he was angry with her for two days because she signed them so easily, got drunk to insanity, felt sorry for himself. And she is at this time ... He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth to the aching.

"I am very guilty before you, Mr.Omer," Sukru spoke again. - After all, I knew about the rental ... I acted dishonestly, read the letter by Fikret Gallo. She wrote everything there ... and about Serdar, and blackmail Mrs.Neriman. It would be better if you read it then and found out everything with Defne. Well, you would make some noise, quarrel ... but all this would not have happened ... But Defne was afraid, and I gave her the letter. Forgive me, Mr.Omer. I am very guilty before you.

Omer listened and understood that he did not care. He was not angry with Sukru, he did not accuse him of lying and betrayal. Another mystery revealed, but it no longer had a meaning. Nothing mattered except Defne.

"Let's go, Sukru," Omer ordered, opening his eyes and looking straight ahead. - I need Defne.

Sinan was waiting for him on the threshold of the hospital. He looked wary and guilty. Omer stopped in front of him. Both looked into each other's eyes and hugged tightly.

"Forgive me," asked Sinan.

"Already forgiven," Omer answered. - Take me to the doctor.

Dr. Mustafa, a bald, stout man with bushy eyebrows and a clean-shaven face, sat at a table in the staff office of the emergency room and filled out some papers. He shook Omer's hand and looked intently at the seemingly calm, but grief darkened face. "Doctor, my wife ... I want to know everything about her condition," he said emphatically.

The doctor gestured to Omer to sit on a chair and answered his request:

- As a result of prolonged oxygen starvation, your wife had a deep coma. She did not breathe herself, the pupils did not react to the light, there were no stem reflexes. Until today, we assumed that her brain was dead. That is why it was decided to disable the life support system.

- Did you say: until today? What happened today? - Trying not to succumb to panic, Omer asked.

"We performed an apnea test, and it showed that your wife can breathe herself."

Omer abruptly sucked in the air and asked in a voice deaf with excitement:

- What does it mean?

- This means that there is no brain death. It can function.

Omer covered his face with his hands. His body shuddered and a barely audible moan came from under his palms. Sinan laid his hand on his shoulder. Silently thanks for the support, Omer took his palms from his face and squeezed his friend's hand. Then he looked at the doctor and asked:

- If the brain is alive, why Defne does not come to her senses?

He shrugged and thoughtfully patted his forefinger on the chin.

- There may be many reasons, but I am inclined to the version that the lack of consciousness is a protective reaction of the body to stress. Your wife was admitted to the hospital in extreme exhaustion. From the words of her relatives, we realized that for several weeks she had eaten almost nothing and was depressed. And now ... - the doctor looked Omer directly in the eyes. In them, dark, almost black, flamed a hell of a mixture of guilt, pain, self-contempt and ... love. The doctor did not know what happened between the spouses, but now he was sure that this man loves his wife very much. And yet he did not intend to soothe her grieving husband. His next words sounded harsh: - She does not want to live. Hiding in unconsciousness from pain. And here we are powerless. Pull her out of this state can only people whom she loves. In world practice, there are many cases where the presence and speech of relatives brought patients from a deep coma. We allowed Mrs.Defne her grandmother and asked to speak with her. Mrs. Turkan has been in the ward for several hours already, but there are no changes in your wife's condition yet.

It was as if the air was pumped out of Omer. He slouched and lowered his head. Without looking at the doctor, he asked:

- Can I see her?

"Of course," he replied. - Go up to the third floor to the intensive care unit. I will call the nurse on duty to let you into the ward.

Omer came out of the staffroom room. In the corridor, he pressed his back to the wall and slid it down to the floor. He wrapped his head in his hands and squeezed it so that his fingers turned white. What did he do?

"Omer," Sinan crouched down in front of him and looked into his face, "do not punish yourself." This will not help Defne.

He looked up at his friend's reddened eyes and spoke. And so much agony was in his voice, so much self-loathing that Sinan's heart sank from pity for this unfortunate, broken with grief man.

- Sinan, she was dying for two months, and I, as the last asshole, was waiting for Defne to call or write ... in a word — she would come running to me. She will save my pride ... And I will read her a moral sermon on honesty and trust ... then I will forgive her generously, and let her throw herself on my neck. What kind of person am I, Sinan? After all, I knew, even on the night of the wedding, leaving her at the hotel, and the next day, flying to Marseille, I knew that she did not do it for the money. I knew that she loved me and would always be by my side. I knew but still wanted to punish. Punished ...

He covered his face with his hands and shook his head. The voice sounded choked and dull.

- I waited, and she was silent. And then I came up with this stupid divorce. I thought she would get angry, tear the paper to hell and call me ... But she signed ... And then she went to the embankment and ...

Omer fell silent. Moisture leaked through closed fingers and Sinan realized with horror that his friend was crying.

He grabbed Omer by the shoulders and shook it violently.

- Stop it! What happened, happened. Now is not the time for self-blame. Defne needs you! She's waiting for you.

Omer removed his hands from his face and looked at his friend. Confused at first, the look began to change, turning into a resolute and firm one. He jerked to his feet and pulled Sinan behind him.

- You're right! As always, right, brother. Faster! Defne needs me.

They almost ran to the elevator. The shiny metal doors were closed and Omer fiercely pressed the call button until they parted. In the booth, he nervously tapped his foot, as if this could accelerate its movement. But the doors opened on the right floor. At the end of the hall, the door was white, above which the "Intensive Care Unit" sign shone green. Omer swiftly walked toward her, but before he could make even ten steps, he was stopped by a male voice growling with rage:

- What are you doing here?

He looked around. Iso went against him. His face was black with fatigue, and there was fury in his eyes. He was followed by Serdar. The brother of Defne looked like a man who had been passed through a millstone. Both men did not expect to see Ipplikchi and his appearance caused a surge of anger in them. Looking at Sinan, Iso narrowed his eyes and croaked:

- Did you call him?

"I," answered Sinan honestly. "Whatever you say now, I know that I did the right thing." Omer is the husband of Defne and has the right to know.

- Husband? - Iso clenched his hands into fists and aggressively put his chin forward. - Where was he this husband when Defne faded away? When day after day, from morning to night, sat on the balcony and looked at the road? Where was he when the whole neighborhood was on her name? When she fell into the water, where was he?

Ismail addressed Sinan but looked at Ipplikchi. His gaze was burning, but Omer did not look away. Silently listened to angry, accusing words and looked into the eyes of a man distraught with grief. He understood his anger and rage because now he had the same feelings towards himself.

- Come on! Hit me - without hiding the bitterness, Omer gently asked. - Strike. And you and I will feel better.

Iso raised his hand. The fist shook with tension. The gloomy face turned into a mask of anger and hatred. He looked into Omer's eyes. In them, despair intertwined with pain and an unbearable burden of guilt. He stood motionless and waited for a blow. The seconds went by, the looks were gone, and Iso's hand shook more and more. The air in the room became dense from the heat of emotions. It seemed to the frozen Serdar and Sinan - one more instant and everything around would explode, and burn with a blue flame.

Iso clenched his teeth and lowered his fist. Serdar grabbed his friend by the elbow and turned to Omer:

- Get out of here.

"No," he answered firmly. - I have to be near Defne.

-Only relatives are allowed to stay near her. You are nobody for Defne, which means you have no right - Serdar did not shout, but the cold in his voice could freeze the ocean.

But Omer thought otherwise.

- I am the husband of Defne! - looking Serdar in the eyes, he objected.

- Ex-husband! - cried Iso again. - Defne signed the papers for divorce, which you started yourself! Signed that day!

"I stopped the procedure," Omer broke his angry tirade. - There is no divorce. Defne is my wife, and I am her husband.

Iso theatrically clapped his hands.

- Bravo Omer Iplikci! How easy it is for you! You wanted – you started, you wanted – you stopped. You wanted a girl to fall in love with yourself, but hardly any difficulties arise as you throw her out of your life. That's just Defne does not know-how. She crumbled each time into pieces and then tried to glue them together. But this time she could not, - tears began to sparkle in Iso's eyes.

"Friend, you're wrong," Sinan, who had been silent before, spoke up. "Every time he left Defne, Omer suffered no less than her ..."

"Hush, brother," Omer stopped him. - Iso is right. I was a jerk and admit it.

- You're a jerk! - Iso was not touched by the last words of Omer. - Get out and stay away from Defne.

The door of the office opened almost silently, and an old woman exhausted by grief approached the men.

- What's going on here? She asked the men sternly.

"Grandma," Serdar gently touched her thin hand. - It's OK. Do not worry. Omer came to learn about Defne's condition. He is already leaving.

Contrary to his words, Omer stepped towards an elderly woman and took her hand. He kissed and pressed his forehead against the wrinkled skin.

- Aunt Turkian, I will not leave. Please understand me! I have to be near her, - he looked imploringly and the elderly woman, nodding her head, stepped aside and gestured to the door.

Omer instantly disappeared behind her, and Serdar asked, dumbfounded:

- Grandma, why?

Iso was silent, but in his view, the same question was read. Turkan looked at her grandson, then at the guy, she considered to be her son and answered:

- He is her husband. Maybe he will be able to do something that is beyond our power to bring Defne back to life.

"Grandma, will you accept the help of Omer?" - Serdar astonishment knew no bounds.

"I will accept the help of anyone who can return my Defne to me," answered grandma Turkan and burst into tears.

Her tears cooled the ardor of men. Both of them were guilty. Grandma wiped her tears and ordered:

- Let's go home. Nihan and Esra are worried. I will be back tomorrow morning.

Тhe Topal and Iso were gone. Sinan looked after them and tiredly rubbed his face with his hands. Omer is back. But can he make a miracle?

In the ward, the nurse instructed Omer on how to behave in the intensive care unit. He listened and nodded. These bureaucratic delays have annoyed him. He is losing time, and Defne is there alone now. The nurse pointed to the right room and allowed Omer to enter.

His hands trembled as he opened the door. His heart was pounding my ribs and his throat was caught with a spasm. He entered the chamber and his eyes instantly found a high bed on which Defne lay. The girl was so small and fragile that she could hardly guess under the thick white sheet that covered her. The setting sun looked into the windows and gilded the red hair. The pale skin under its rays seemed transparent, and the girl herself was a sleeping angel. But the angel was not entangled by wings, but by wiring, which from the sensors in the heart area and on the index finger of the left hand-stretched to the monitor producing rhythmic sounds.

A curve of the cardiogram and numbers ran across the screen. From the respirator to the corner of

Defne's mouth, a transparent tube approached. Thin hands lay on top of the sheet. In the vein, at the crook of the elbow, there was a catheter into which a dropper was attached.