She stood up, adjusted her shawl, and walked away into the winding streets of the old neighborhood.

She turned to him, catching his gaze. "The current is strong tonight," she said, her voice like dry parchment. "Usually, people think the water just flows one way. But there’s a second current underneath, flowing back to the Black Sea. Two worlds, moving in opposite directions at the exact same time."

Across the water, the silhouette of the stood like a lonely sentinel. To his left, the Bosphorus Bridge began to glow with violet lights, a string of pearls draped over the neck of the city.

Selim looked back at the water. He felt like those currents—his past pulling him toward the safety of the shore, his future dragging him toward the unknown depths of the sea.

The woman smiled, a map of wrinkles crinkling around her eyes. "You don't follow either. You are the Bosphorus, son. You are the place where they meet. Just stay steady, and let the world move through you."

"Which one do I follow?" he asked, surprised by his own honesty.