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“H-how?” He breaks the silence, and I regain focus by breathing out and opening my eyes.

“They did everything they could, but the damage to his brain was too severe. His vital organs stopped working. His heart stopped beating.”

He doesn’t waste time asking about Lana. “Where is she?”

“I brought her back, and she’s sleeping right now. Noa, she’s in bad shape. She collapsed in my arms. Then…”

“Then what?” His voice is breaking, and I hate that I’m doing this to him.

“She called out your name. Please, come home. She needs you,” I plead with him.

“I’ll be there as quick as I can.” He hangs up.

I slump against Adam, and he holds me until I decide to make Lana her soup.

Chapter forty-six

Lana

“I’m so sorry.”

“Lana, he died.”

“I’ll always be by your side.”

“Being weird means being cool.”

Words are floating in my head, and I’m not able to push them away.

I’m barely able to open my eyes as I have a splitting headache. When I’m finally able to open them, tears spring in my eyes.

“He died.”

Emin, my best friend in the whole world, has passed away. I can’t seem to come to terms with that awful fact. I feel like a rock has been placed on my chest and it’s constricting my lungs to take a full breath.

“Lana.” A gentle voice reaches me. When I sit up, I see that it’s Sara and Hana in the doorway.

Wait.

Where am I?

I blink a couple of times, and I realize where I am—Noa’s bedroom, and it’s well into nighttime. But Noa’s not here.

My back is plastered against the bed frame, and I can cry again because of the kindness Sara and Hana are displaying. They are carrying a tray full of food and drinks, and they take a seat on the bed with me.

“You need to eat to regain strength. Here.” Sara brings a spoonful of chicken soup to me, and I gladly take a sip. The warm liquid feels like a balm to my aching thoughts, but it can’t heal me.

Nothing will.

Hana gives me pieces of bread dipped in kajmak and forces me to drink tea. After they’re done feeding me, they set the trays on the floor and sit cross-legged on the bed. They’re looking at me with worry in their eyes, and I break down.

Sara places my head in the crook of her neck while Hana is stroking my arm up and down.

“I can’t believe he’s gone. When is this pain finally going to stop? It hurts so much,” I tell them through sobs. My cries get stuck in my lungs, and I’m hiccupping because of it. The waterfall of tears is staining Sara’s shirt, but she doesn’t care. She’s rocking me back and forth and shushing me.

“Your love for him was pure, and that will never waver.” Hana’s kind voice hits me. I don’t answer her and keep on crying.

“Grief is the purest form of love. It’s our way of showing that even after someone dies, we carry that love with us,” Sara whispers to me.