“Honeymoon?” says Julia, momentarily confused. “Oh, God no. We’re just traveling together. He needs his own room.”
Ada looks crestfallen. “Oh.”
Julia gives her the booking number. Ada taps on the computer keyboard and stares intently at the screen.
“I cannot find the booking,” she says, frowning. Ada waves a hand. “But do not worry. I have many rooms. Passport, please.”
As Ada runs their passports through a small photocopier to the left of the desk, Julia’s phone vibrates. It’s a text message: Apologies for not meeting you at airport. Will pick you up from hotel this afternoon. CF.
Julia shows Leo.
“See,” he says. “I told you everything would be okay.”
Julia isn’t entirely convinced and thinks about calling Christine Fletcher back to get a firm time of arrival but decides against it. She doesn’t want to become a pest and have the information flow shut down completely.
Her phone vibrates again. It’s a text from the hospital. Mrs. Keller is getting discharged today. Julia feels a pang and wishes she could be there to wish her luck. It feels uncomfortable, being away from work. Julia doesn’t like it at all. Rescheduling all her upcoming surgeries had been hard. People relied on her. Patients, colleagues, the community. She’d felt like she was deserting her already understaffed department in their hour of need.
“Everything all right?” says Leo.
“The hospital,” says Julia, slipping her phone into her pocket.
“Tourist map?” says Ada, handing over the key cards.
Julia pauses, thinking.
“Actually, you might be able to help me with something.”
Julia crouches down and unzips her suitcase. She reaches inside and finds her stack of flyers and puts one on the counter.
“My sister is missing. We’re in Istanbul to look for her. Have you seen her?”
“Julia,” says Leo, softly. “Istanbul’s a big place.”
Julia ignores him and pushes the flyer closer to Ada. “Her hair may be different now. Please look closely and see if you recognize her. Maybe she stayed here? Maybe you saw her when you were out on the street? Anything you can think of will be a great help.”
Julia had used Toni’s Facebook profile picture. The same selfie as the Korean one with the fuchsia hair. The photograph was at least six months old but it was the best that Julia could do.
Ada studies the flyer. She lifts her head and looks at Julia. “Sorry, I have not seen this young lady.”
Julia feels a hit of disappointment.
“Perhaps you could put this up somewhere? Do you have a notice board where your staff and guests can see it?”
Ada’s eyes drop to the flyer, hesitating.
“Please,” says Julia.
“I will put in the business center, okay?” Ada says, jerking a thumb to the left, toward a room at the end of the narrow corridor.
“That’s very kind. Thank you so much.”
Ada looks down at the flyer again. “This is not good. Your sister being in trouble in Istanbul. Give me some more poster and I will give to my friend. He runs a shop. I will ask him to put some up for you.”
Julia’s touched. “Really? I can’t tell you how much I would appreciate that.”
Julia returns to her suitcase, gets a whole stack out, and gives them to Ada.
It feels good to finally be doing something.
12
The porter slips the key card into room 313 and ushers Julia inside. Hidden away at the end of a poorly lit hallway, the room is basic but impeccably clean. A pair of twin beds, made with military precision, take up most of the space. There’s a small counter opposite, two drinking glasses in paper wrappers on top, minibar fridge wedged beneath. Completing the arrangement is a single, leather-look tub chair in the corner near the window.
Julia stifles a groan when she sees an adjoining doorway to the room next door. In her experience rooms with adjoining doors mean noise. The last time she’d been in one, she hadn’t been able to sleep at all. In fact, she’d even been able to hear the occupants turn over in bed. To make matters worse, it dawns on her now that she’s forgotten to pack her custom-made ear plugs, something she used even when sleeping alone at home. She considers asking for a different room but just doesn’t have the energy.
Julia opens the ratty maroon curtains to let in some light. Any hope of a decent view crumbles when she sees the brick wall and trash-littered alleyway below.
She runs her tongue around her mouth. She needs water. The flight has left her dehydrated and she’s at risk of getting a migraine. Crossing the floor, she crouches to check the mini-fridge for bottled water. But apart from an impressive build-up of ice around the tiny metal freezer box, the fridge is empty.
Exhausted, Julia drops to the end of the bed. Was it really less than forty-eight hours ago that she received the call from John Miller? Her mind swims with everything. The sense of foreboding that she’s done so well to hold at bay suddenly overwhelms her. She reaches for her bag and takes out a flyer. She studies the photo of Toni. Toni, her thoughtless, cavalier, free-spirited sister. Julia gets to her feet and pins it to the wall.
*
Julia wakes with Leo standing over her, Ada at his shoulder.
Julia sits up, disorientated. “What is it?”
“I kept knocking but got no answer. Ada let me in,” he says.
Julia follows Leo’s gaze to the adjoining door, which is now wide open. She looks over her shoulder and sees the imprint of her body on the comforter.
“I must have fallen asleep.”
Leo’s frown grows deeper. “You don’t look so good.”
Julia tucks a lock of sweaty hair behind her ear. “I’m tired, Leo, not sick.”
“When was the last time you had something to eat?”
Julia stands, feels shaky on her feet. “I’m fine, Leo. Please don’t fuss.”
“I go now, okay,” says Ada, glancing at them both.
“Of course. Thank you for
