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Sometimes, a building is more than stone, wood, and glass. Sometimes, a hotel becomes a vault for time - a place where memories settle like dust, and those who stay behind become part of its silence. The Imperial Hotel is not merely the story of a fire. It is a story whispered by time itself - a man's struggle to uncover the truth before he fades into his own shadow. Behind the scent of lavender lies the weight of memory, a clock that stops each night at the same minute, and a dialogue that continues within the heart of a building long after it's gone. This novel reminds us that truth is not always seen - sometimes, it is felt in silence. Like footsteps echoing through marble halls, this story drifts between past and present, between dream and confession. It is not about what was lost in the fire - but about what survived within. - Sergen Sancak