Page 43 of The Book of Heartbreak

‘Just go away,’ I say through clenched teeth.

Munu disappears so fast I almost assume I imagined her.

I mull over her words. Haven’t you suffered enough already? I stare at myself in the mirror. Perhaps I should give up, and just let the curse break me. I won’t feel this pain when it takes my heart. I will be free of sorrow.

But my reflection shakes her head.

You will not give up, she says. Not until you break the curse .

When I finally compose myself, I retreat to my bedroom to get organised. But any hope of solace shatters as the telltale click of the lock pierces the silence.

‘Hey!’ I rush towards the door, but it’s already too late. The sound of heavy footsteps fades as I grasp the doorknob, realising I’m trapped.

‘Azmi!’ I shriek. ‘Open this door! You can’t keep me locked in here!’

‘I’m sorry,’ Azmi’s voice comes through the door. ‘You’re not allowed to leave today.’

‘Are you serious?’ I scream, my frustration bubbling over into despair. ‘Why? This is insane!’

‘It’s best, for everyone’s sake,’ Azmi replies, and he sounds sorrowful. ‘Mr. Gümüshus will come around tomorrow.’

With these words, I erupt into a frenzy – pounding, kicking and screaming for freedom.

Despite the weeks I’ve spent in relative confinement in this room, a sense of claustrophobia ensnares me now.

I’m held captive when I need to get out, to go to that island and find Arda Banguo?lu.

My desperation transforms into a wild fury. I’m a wolf trapped in a cage.

But Azmi has already left, and nobody comes to my aid. There are no other sounds in the house except for mine.

I lean on the door and think of the only way I can escape – the one that’s a possibility thanks to Leon, because if he’s done it, I can as well.

The balcony.

Perhaps desperation works in my favour, because I climb down the woody wisteria without falling or being spotted, and dash out of the metal gate, straight to Leon’s apartment across the street.

To my surprise, Pelin opens the door.

‘What are you doing here?’ She scowls at the sight of me. ‘I thought we had an understanding.’

‘I’m sorry. But I really need a word with Leon. Where is he?’

‘He’s out.’ The door creaks open wider, and Harika’s voluminous hair appears behind Pelin.

‘Out where?’ My eyes dart from Pelin to Harika.

‘Look, missy,’ Harika huffs. ‘Whatever’s going on between you two is beyond my capacity to comprehend. And to be fair, I’m not in the least bit interested. Leon isn’t here but it won’t require clairvoyance to find him. Check the tower, or the seafront.’

‘He has to leave this Saturday,’ Pelin warns me. ‘Don’t you forget.’

‘And they blame my generation for being dramatic.’ Harika rolls her eyes, watching Pelin.

‘Darling, what did I tell you? Relax. Leon will remain where he’s meant to stay – until he’s sent, against his will, to a place he’s not meant to stay.

But in the end, he’ll end up exactly where he’s supposed to be. ’

‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ Pelin looks as baffled as I feel at Harika’s cryptic remark.

‘My dreams never lie,’ Harika says with a casual shrug, as if the confusion is entirely our failure to comprehend and offers no further explanation. And then she extends her hand to me, motioning towards my palm.

‘Everyone comes here seeking answers,’ she says. ‘But the question is – are they brave enough to face them?’

I recoil. ‘I-I don’t understand what you mean.’

‘Let me have a peek.’ Harika grabs my hand.

I have no choice but to push through her performance.

‘You . . .’ She begins but then her mouth falls open, and she closes her eyes.

‘But how? Wait.’ Slowly, her frown softens, and her eyes snap open again.

‘Ah . . . I see it now. Yes, it all makes sense. Exquisite.’

It definitely doesn’t make sense to me.

‘What’s going on?’ Pelin asks. ‘What have you seen, Harika?’

‘You must promise me—’ Harika ignores Pelin and leans towards me, a faint waft of rosewater brushing against me as she speaks.

‘When the time comes to make a decision: choose love and not hate. Choose hope, not despair. Choose life, not death. And choose courage, Sare Silverbirch. Courage will save you – and Leon too.’

Talk about melodramatic.

‘Fab, thanks.’ I force a polite smile. Not that I understand in the slightest. But even if I did, how can I make choices when they’re always made for me?

‘That was intense.’ Under the white glow of the fluorescent light, Harika lets go of my hand. ‘I’ve never experienced anything like that before,’ she says, panting. ‘Are you . . . a catalyst?’

‘A what?’ Pelin and I ask in unison.

‘A catalyst, a conduit to the Otherside,’ Harika explains in awe.

‘An amplifier for those with the pure eye. Rare. Very rare.’ She scrutinises me like I’m a precious artifact.

‘But not unheard of. Especially when curses are involved. Yes . . . Come and visit me again. I’d like to do a full reading for you. Yes, I’d like that very much.’

Okay, this is officially getting weird.

‘Alrighty,’ I manage, clearing my throat and stepping towards the stairs, eager to escape her enthusiasm. ‘I guess I’ll see you guys . . . around.’

And then I bolt away, as fast as I can.

I find Leon sitting on a bench overlooking the Maiden’s Tower. I’m drawn to him as if we have an invisible thread that connects us.

He’s eating a bar of chocolate, having clearly given up on his hunger strike. He doesn’t notice me at first, and I savour the freedom of watching him unnoticed. Then he glances up to meet my eye, as if he sensed me.

‘Silverbirch.’ He stands abruptly.

I gulp down a nervous breath. ‘Hey.’

‘Are you okay?’ He steps towards me.

‘I’m fine.’ There’s no use in telling him about Muzaffer’s punishment. Or his aunt’s speculations. The woman is on another wavelength, anyway. ‘Listen, I need to go to the island, so I need that card with the address.’

‘But you don’t want me to come with you?’ He fishes it out of his pocket but doesn’t pass it to me.

I hesitate, not because I don’t already know the answer.

Of course I want him by my side. But what if Pelin’s right?

What if this whole thing is a threat to him?

The thought knots in my chest. I can’t be a boulder standing between him and his future.

He has an exciting path ahead, and mine is littered with death and heartbreak.

‘I don’t want you to skip your flight because of me,’ I confess after a long, uncomfortable silence.

Leon tucks a curl behind his ear as he considers my words. A gull swooshes past us to land near our feet. Its eyes are greedy.

‘Look,’ he says at last, ‘if we can’t figure out anything before Saturday, I can go another time. There’s a plane to Peru every week. I told you, there’s no deadline – I don’t need to go straight away.’

I can’t argue with that. ‘Right.’ I drop my gaze to the sea.

The waves brush the rocks on the shoreline like rhythmic dancers.

‘And one last thing. No more drinking salt water or starving yourself. And should you have any visions, you must immediately report to me. Deal?’ I extend my hand, completely professional, pretending I’m not distracted by how breathtakingly beautiful he is.

‘Deal.’ He nods, his hand enveloping mine.

Communication is classified as Top Secret.

Circulation strictly limited to correspondents.

Subject: Your True Nature

Date: 6 August 2025

From: Grey the Compassionate, Senior Cherub, Temporal Intervention Agency, Fate Adjustment Bureau, Mortal Affairs Commission

To: Five the Fifth, Angel of Death, Field Operations, Mortal Termination and Transition, Mortal Affairs Commission

Five,

I’ve often wondered what makes you so different from the rest of us. We are all mighty, and some of us – those who don’t share my progressive views – are as indifferent to mortals as you are, but no one else carries your . . . attitude.

I’ve spent many hours reflecting on this during my walks through the rolling hills of the Heavens – after all, a stroll can be far more enlightening than flying, giving wings a rest and pushing the mind and legs to work – and I believe I’ve finally found the answer.

Pride and arrogance, comrade, sets you apart from the rest of us who serve in the Heavenly Governance.

Thanks to my recent promotion – no doubt facilitated by your divine influence to buy my silence, proof of said pride and arrogance – I’ve obtained some rather interesting records from the Vault of Angelic Registry (VAR).

For that, I offer my sincere thanks. You see, I never had access to these before.

And guess what I found, Five? You aren’t originally from the Heavenly Governance like the rest of us. No, according to the VAR registrar, you were transferred – from the Infernal Dominion.

You’re not made of light, but fire. You’re an ifrit . A demon born of flames. They changed your name to Five, but it’s a rather fitting one, isn’t it, considering you’re from the fifth circle of Hell?

I don’t know who you bribed, manipulated or blackmailed to slither your way up the ranks towards Our Boss Almighty’s power, but rest assured, your days here in Governance are numbered.

It may surprise you – or perhaps not, given your inflated ego – that I found my answers in the mortals you so condescendingly despise. It seems, my dear comrade, that you are much more like them than you’d ever care to admit.

Perhaps it’s a side effect of spending too much time in their realm?

Either way, I’ve uncovered some intriguing evidence – unauthorised trips of yours to London, New York, Venice, Bangkok and Istanbul.

Are there more? For a demon-turned-angel who claims to detest mortals, you’re entangled quite deeply within their world.

You’ve left a trail, Five, one even a lowly cherub could follow. But rest assured, these revelations are only the beginning. The Governance will soon hear everything. More to follow.

Yours in eternal vigilance,

Cherub