Episode 9

## Episode 9: The Name I Was Never Given

**Narrated by Dilara Aslan**

Three days.

That's how long I stayed in the hospital after the poisoning. Three long, pale days filled with antiseptic air, sleepless nights, and Alihan pacing the room like a tiger in a glass cage.

He didn't say it, but I could feel the weight of it in the silence:

If I hadn't survived… he wouldn't have stayed quiet.

He would've burned the whole house down.

---

They never found Selma.

She left no prints, no bags, no trace of herself. Just the bitter taste of betrayal.

And one question that kept scratching at the edge of my mind:

**Why me?**

If this was about money, I could've been threatened.

If this was about revenge, they could've waited.

But poisoning… it meant they needed me gone — fast and clean.

Someone wanted silence.

And that someone had to know exactly what I was about to uncover.

---

Alihan didn't leave my side.

We didn't talk much.

He just stayed — quietly watching, protecting, thinking.

But on the third morning, the quiet broke.

A nurse knocked on the door, looking hesitant.

"There's someone here to see Miss Aslan."

Alihan stood immediately. "No visitors."

"He says he's family."

I frowned. "Who is it?"

The nurse checked her clipboard. "His name is… Kenan Avci."

Alihan's face went blank.

But mine went ice cold.

That name — I had never heard it before.

But somehow, it rang in my bones.

---

Kenan Avci.

A man in his sixties, dressed like a retired diplomat, with slicked-back silver hair and a voice like sandpaper.

He entered with a cane and a small smile.

"Dilara," he said, as if we'd spoken every day for years. "You have your mother's eyes."

I blinked. "Do I… know you?"

He glanced at Alihan. "Alp Murat's boy. I can see it in your face."

"We asked you a question," Alihan said sharply.

Kenan looked at me. "You may know me better by a name your mother never told you. I'm your uncle."

---

My blood froze.

"My mother didn't have any brothers."

Kenan smiled faintly. "Not the ones Murat approved of."

He sat down slowly, resting his cane. "I was her half-brother. Her mother's shame, hidden in the village outside Istanbul while she was paraded as the perfect bride."

I couldn't breathe.

"I'm here," he said, "because the truth always floats back — no matter how far you sink it."

Alihan crossed his arms. "What truth?"

Kenan's eyes turned to me.

"Your real name, Dilara… isn't Aslan."

---

The room spun.

"You're lying."

"I wish I were," Kenan said. "But Murat never legally adopted you. You carry the name, but not the signature. You are Aylin's daughter by blood. But the man who fathered you — was not Murat."

---

I stared at him, my world cracking like thin glass.

Alihan moved to my side.

"She was married to him," I said. "She raised me in his house."

Kenan nodded. "But Murat found out too late. And he kept it quiet — for power, for appearance, for control."

Alihan's voice was dark. "So he faked her papers."

"Correct. He made her yours legally, but never signed you into the Aslan bloodline. That's why the second will matters. Because it's the only one that names you both."

---

I gripped the bedsheet tightly.

"So what does that mean?" I asked. "That I'm not part of the Aslan family?"

"It means," Kenan said, "you're more than they ever gave you credit for. And your inheritance… is twice as large as you think."

He reached into his coat and placed a sealed envelope on the nightstand.

"In here," he said, "is the deed to property left to your mother before she disappeared. It's in your name now. Untraceable. Unclaimed. And full of answers."

I stared at the envelope.

"Why now?" I whispered.

Kenan stood. "Because now… someone wants it destroyed."

---

After he left, silence returned.

Alihan picked up the envelope.

"Do you trust him?" he asked.

"No."

"But?"

"But he knew things no one else could."

---

That night, I didn't sleep again.

But I dreamed.

Of fire.

Of Selma's hand.

Of my mother screaming through a locked door.

---

The next morning, we left the hospital.

But not for the house.

For the mountains.

The deed pointed to a property outside Sapanca — quiet, remote, surrounded by forest.

When we arrived, the old caretaker stood waiting, confused but calm.

"It's been 20 years," he said. "But she said one day… someone would come."

Alihan squeezed my hand.

"I guess that day is today," I whispered.

---

Inside the house, time stood still.

Photos.

Clothes.

Books on motherhood, betrayal, forgiveness.

And a small black box.

I opened it with shaking hands.

Inside… were keys.

Keys to a safety deposit box.

And a cassette tape.

Labeled: **For My Daughter.**

---

**To be continued...**

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> 🎙️ **Next on Episode 10:**

Dilara listens to the tape her mother left behind — but what she hears is more than just a message: it's a confession. One that will tear the Aslan empire apart forever.