Part 4 — I was lying with a broken leg in an abandoned apartment when an unknown man knocked on the door — and Tyler’s face turned ash-gray in one second

Sadi answered the phone immediately, but on the other end only heavy breathing could be heard.

“Harper, where are you?” she asked.

“At the hospital. Tyler broke my leg.”

“I know. Someone searched my apartment.”

Luka stood by the window and looked at the city’s wet streets.

“Sadi, lock the door and move away from the windows,” he told her.

“Who is this man?”

“A person who is ensuring your protection now.”

“Harper, don’t tell me that you have gotten involved with those people you were afraid of in childhood again.”

I closed my eyes.

“I did not get involved with them. They were in my home.”

Luka gave his people short orders. For the first time I saw how people obeyed him even after one word. No one asked why. No one added their own opinion.

At the same time Tyler was in the neighboring room with the police. His lawyer, a short woman with a severe jaw, came out into the corridor and blocked Luka’s way.

“My client wants to speak with this woman.”

“He has the right to speak in the presence of a lawyer,” Luka said.

“You are not the police.”

“But I have the recording that will take your client to prison.”

The woman took my hand as if to calm me, but immediately pulled it back.

“Harper, you can say that everything was a misunderstanding. If you withdraw the accusation of violence, you will have better conditions of protection.”

“Is my leg also a misunderstanding?”

The lawyer looked away.

“You are in an emotional state.”

“I was in an emotional state for two years. Today I am awake for the first time.”

Tyler was brought in. He had handcuffs on his hands, but still tried to speak in his old voice.

“Harper, please don’t ruin our lives.”

“You already ruined our life.”

“I scared you. I just wanted you not to leave.”

“That’s why you broke my leg?”

He opened his mouth, but could not find an answer.

Luka turned on the recording.

Tyler’s own voice sounded in the room: “If you don’t be quiet, I’ll make your brother lose everything too.”

Tyler first looked at the screen, then at his own hands. As if he were hearing these words for the first time and could not believe that he himself had said them.

“It is edited,” he whispered.

“Then forensic examination will prove it,” Luka said.

This time the lawyer did not defend him anymore.

“I can no longer continue with this case,” she said. “I have a conflict of interest with the client.”

“What does that mean?” Tyler asked.

“It means that I no longer trust you.”

Tyler sank onto the chair. A small key fell from his pocket and spun on the floor.

I recognized it immediately. I had seen the same key years earlier in Nino’s photographs.

Luka picked it up.

“It is the key to the riverside warehouse,” he said.

Tyler raised his head.

“Nothing remains there.”

“You have not checked that yet.”

That night the investigation began. Luka’s people found Nino’s bag, an old camera, and three more memory cards in the warehouse. On one, Cross’s face could be seen, and on another Tyler was standing by Nino’s car.

Cross was arrested at Sadi’s apartment before he could open the door.

Sadi told me this news by phone and was silent for a long time at the end.

“Harper, why didn’t you tell me that you were so afraid?”

“Because I was ashamed.”

“You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

This was the hardest thing to hear. For two years I thought that violence was proof of my weakness. That night I realized that asking for help is not weakness, but the desire to survive.

Three weeks later I still had a cast on my leg. I moved from the hospital into a small rented apartment, where the river could be seen from the window. In the mornings I worked as a translator, and in the evenings I went to physiotherapy. Sadi came three times a week and left me a new book each time.

Luka appeared rarely. When he came, he stopped at the door and dared to enter only after my consent.

“I’ll take Nino’s things if you want,” he told me once.

“No. Let them stay here for now.”

The music box stood beside my bed. I did not repair its broken glass bird. Every night I opened the lid and a small melody began — several clear notes, then a rough stop.

Exactly like my old life.

Five months later Tyler sent me a letter. The envelope was white, and my address was written on it in his hand.

“Forgive me. Now I understand that I was sick. Please see me at least once.”

I put the letter on the kitchen table. I looked at it for a long time.

Then I tore it up and threw it into the trash bin.

Luka told me that my testimony was no longer needed for the trial, but I went anyway. Not for revenge. I simply wanted my voice to be there where Nino’s voice had been silenced before.

Tyler pleaded guilty. Cross also admitted his guilt. Nino’s case was officially recorded as murder, and her family got her name back.

After the trial Luka stood beside me.

“What will you do now?” he asked.

“For the first time? I don’t know.”

“That is a good beginning.”

In winter Sadi brought a little girl to me. Her six-year-old daughter, Elene, sat on the floor and drew the music box. She drew both wings for the glass bird.

“It is more beautiful this way,” she told me.

I smiled at her.

“You may be right.”

The first snow came that same evening. Flakes melted on the windowsill, while the faint sound of wooden music stood in the room.

I opened the box.

The melody stopped in the middle again.

But this time the silence did not frighten me anymore.

I left the bird with the broken wing in my palm and opened the window.

Outside, the air was cold.

And for the first time I was no longer waiting for someone to return to save me.