When Layla returned to class, there was already an English lesson in progress. Ms. Gülce, the English teacher, stood at the front of the room, speaking to the class.
"Hey, are you alright?" Asma leaned in and whispered, her eyes filled with concern. She assumed the teachers had given Layla a hard time.
"Yeah, I'm good," Layla replied casually, offering a small smile.
Before Asma could ask more, Ms. Gülce called out, "Layla, come to the front."
Layla stood up, raising a brow slightly. She hadn't even sat down yet.
Ms. Gülce had been evaluating students' English skills before Layla entered. Like the rest of the staff, she had heard the unbelievable news: the school's most famous "beauty with a chicken brain" had topped the mathematics test. Now, she wanted to see for herself if there was more to Layla than what the rumors said.
She handed her a paper. "Read this article out loud."
Gasps and low murmurs swept across the classroom. Everyone knew Layla's English used to be a joke. Why would Ms. Gülce ask her of all people to read?
Unbothered, Layla took the paper and walked to the center of the class. She glanced down at the page, then began reading:
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Article:
"Global climate change is one of the most urgent challenges of our time. Rising temperatures have caused glaciers to melt, sea levels to rise, and weather patterns to shift unpredictably. Scientists warn that if action is not taken soon, the damage may become irreversible. Communities across the world are experiencing the consequences firsthand—from devastating floods to extreme heatwaves. Governments, corporations, and individuals must work together to reduce carbon emissions and protect our planet for future generations."
---
What the class expected—a clumsy, awkward reading—never came.
Instead, Layla read the entire article fluently, with clear pronunciation, natural pacing, and confidence. Her voice carried effortlessly across the classroom. Her intonation, clarity, and rhythm were so precise that even Ms. Gülce herself was left wide-eyed, her mouth slightly open in disbelief.
When she finished, Layla calmly turned to the teacher. "I'm done, teacher," she said, handing back the paper.
"O-oh, alright," Ms. Gülce stammered, snapping out of her daze. "You may return to your seat."
Layla walked back and sat down. Asma just stared at her silently, not blinking for a whole minute.
"Are you falling in love with me or something?" Layla teased with a smirk.
"Yes… Wait—what?!" Asma blinked, flustered. "Stop messing with me, idiot. Who's falling in love with you?"
Layla laughed. "Then focus, girl. Ms. Gülce is still in the classroom."
The lesson resumed, though it was clear Ms. Gülce's mind was elsewhere. As soon as the bell rang, she left the room—most likely to report what she had just witnessed to the other teachers in the staff room.
The effect was immediate.
Every teacher who came to class afterward called Layla to the front to test her—whether it was literature, history, science, or even foreign language. And every time, the result was the same: Layla performed flawlessly.
Shock spread like wildfire. The once-mocked "beauty with a chicken brain" had transformed into something no one could deny—a demonic genius.
Even Raya, who had accused her of cheating, was left speechless. Layla didn't just excel in math—she was suddenly top-level in every subject. The mockery faded into shame and silent stares.
By the end of the day, the whole school had heard the news. There was no more "beauty with a chicken brain." That title had been buried. Now, she was the beauty with brains—and no one dared say otherwise.
The final bell rang, echoing through the halls. Students packed their bags, voices buzzing with gossip and disbelief, while Layla quietly walked out of the classroom, calm and composed.
---
Layla and Asma walked side by side through the school corridors toward the main gate, the afternoon sun casting long shadows ahead of them.
"Are you even my friend?" Asma suddenly blurted, her voice half-joking but with a hint of real emotion. "So you were a demonic genius this whole time and hid it from me? I've been stressing over your chances of getting into college, worrying you wouldn't make it—and turns out I should've been worrying about myself instead!"
She paused for a second before adding more quietly, "You really didn't trust me enough to tell me?"
Layla gave her a sidelong glance. "Yeah, I didn't. You never know when to shut up."
"You—! You!!" Asma's eyes widened, then she lunged after her. "Come here, you little—!"
Layla laughed and dodged away as Asma chased her down the steps. The two girls exited the school gate, still bickering like sisters.
After catching her breath, Asma grinned. "So, you won't refuse to study with me, right?"
"Of course not. You're my friend—we'll prepare for the college entrance exam together," Layla replied with a smile. But deep down, she knew the truth: there was no need for her to study anymore. She had already completed the entire syllabus, every subject, and nothing she learned ever slipped from her memory.
Asma lit up with excitement. "Great! Then how about this—since there are only a few months left before the exam, I'm moving into your house."
"What?!" Layla stopped mid-step, blinking at her in disbelief.
"It's settled then," Asma said with finality, like it was already a done deal.
"What do you mean settled? I didn't even agree!"
"There's no need. I won't take no for an answer. If I'm going to get into college smoothly, I have to study side-by-side with a demonic genius. It's a survival plan."
Layla shook her head, amused and exasperated. "You're unbelievable."
The girls continued walking down the road, exchanging playful insults and laughter. Soon, they reached the spot where they had to part ways.
"See you tomorrow," Asma called out, waving with a grin that held determination.
Layla watched her go, a soft smile playing on her lips. So she's really serious about moving in, she thought.
---
When Layla reached home, the house was quiet—she was the only one there. Her mother was probably still at Aunt Zeynep's place, and Emre's school was farther away than hers, so he hadn't arrived yet.
She went straight to her room, changed out of her uniform, and headed to the kitchen to start preparing dinner for the family. But just as she stepped inside the kitchen, a wave of dizziness hit her.
She staggered, clutching the wall for support as a sharp pain pulsed through her head. Then, like a flash, a scene appeared in her mind—a grand, ancient building. It looked like a castle, but oddly empty. No guards, no servants, no life at all. Just silence echoing through its abandoned halls.
She saw portraits hanging on the walls, most likely emperors or high-ranking figures of the past, but none were familiar to her. There was a vast herb garden tucked away in the inner courtyard, lush and well-kept, and rooms overflowing with treasures. But what struck her most were the strange figures at the doors—puppets or maybe statues—lifelike and eerie, guarding each room like sentinels.
Then, her eyes were drawn to a portrait of a woman. The woman wore the exact same outfit as the holy daughter Layla had seen in her dreams and that day in the sea. But it wasn't her—it was someone else entirely. The resemblance was only in the clothing.
The vision slowly faded and her headache eased, but a heaviness lingered in her chest.
What's going on with these dreams and visions? Why am I seeing places and people I've never met? she wondered. She needed answers—but who in the world could she even ask?
Let me leave that for later, she sighed. I have to cook dinner before Emre gets home.
With that, she focused her attention on the kitchen. Before the accident, she had loved watching cooking videos online but had never been able to replicate them properly. Now, everything had changed. She could glance at a video once and recreate the dish better than the chef who invented it.
By the time Emre returned from school, the entire dining table was filled with steaming dishes that looked and smelled like they came from a luxury restaurant.
As soon as he stepped in, Emre sniffed the air and froze. "Sister Layla! When did you learn to cook like this? Did you order from a five-star hotel or something?!"
"Shut up and eat quietly," Layla replied, rolling her eyes.
"Hey! I'm complimenting you here, and you're already getting arrogant?" Emre said with mock outrage.
The two bickered back and forth as they sat down and started eating. The warm light of the house and the delicious food made everything feel almost normal.
Midway through dinner, Layla's phone rang. She answered, listened for a moment, then smiled slightly. "Oh, okay. Give my regards to cousin Elçin," she said before ending the call.
"Was that mom?" Emre asked.
"Yeah. She said Aunt Zeynep's still not doing well, so she's staying there for the night."
"Oh..." Emre nodded.
They finished their meal, washed the dishes together—mostly with Emre whining—and then collapsed onto the couch, putting on a movie to unwind. The cozy living room echoed with their laughter and playful jabs as they watched, for a little while forgetting all the strange things looming in the shadows of Layla's new life.
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