Suddenly, the heavy mahogany doors of the courtroom swung open. A woman stepped in, the click of her Louboutins echoing like gunfire. She wore a fur coat over a cocktail dress, her hair perfectly coiffed, and a look of supreme boredom on her face. It was Bihter.

"Wait," the Judge whispered, putting on his glasses. "The one in the cardigan... she’s actually crying because she’s sad? Not because she’s being manipulative and dramatic?"

"The evidence is clear!" shouted the prosecutor, pointing a finger at her. "She entered that mansion. She wore the silk nightgowns. She looked at her husband’s nephew with a gaze that could melt the Marmara Sea!"

The atmosphere flipped instantly. The crowd, which had been ready to exile her, began throwing rose petals. The Judge dismissed all charges. "Our apologies, dear. We saw the same face and just assumed there was a forbidden affair and a wealthy businessman involved. It’s an easy mistake to make when the cheekbones are that consistent."

Here is a story developed around that "mistaken identity" premise, set in a surreal, satirical version of Istanbul. The Trial of the Century

The phrase (Fatmagül has no fault, we just thought she was Bihter) is a legendary piece of Turkish pop-culture dark humor. It juxtaposes two of Beren Saat’s most famous characters: the innocent, victimized Fatmagül and the ambitious, adulterous Bihter Yöreoğlu.

"Are we starting?" Bihter asked. "Because I have a piano lesson at five, and my husband’s nephew is waiting in the car."