Selim never had an answer then. He was young, convinced that love was a storm, not a steady tide. But as the years passed and Elif moved to the city, the silence she left behind became his only companion.

Selim stepped forward, closing the distance the years had created. "There always was," he replied.

The words hit Selim with the force of a physical blow. He stood up, his joints protesting, and walked toward the music. As he reached the edge of the crowd, he saw a woman standing by the performer, her silver hair catching the last of the light. She wasn't looking at the singer; she was looking at the horizon, toward the very bench he had just vacated.