Ayrıcalık Aşktan Üstün Değildir

Chapter One

The body lay in perfect repose on the Victorian fainting couch, looking more like a sleeping beauty than a victim. Detective Sarah Chen had seen enough death in her ten years with the Metropolitan Police's Special Cases Unit to know that natural death never looked this peaceful. Something was very, very wrong.

        'No signs of struggle, no marks on the body, and yet...' She leaned closer, studying the victim's face. Charlotte Mills, aged 28, was found by her roommate this morning, apparently having passed away in her sleep. Her expression was serene, almost blissful, but her eyes - those were what caught Sarah's attention. Behind the closed lids, her eyes were moving rapidly, as if still deep in REM sleep.

        "You see it too, don't you?" The voice came from behind her, rich and cultured with a slight Irish lilt. "She's still dreaming."

        Sarah turned to find a tall man in an impeccably tailored charcoal suit standing in the doorway. He hadn't been there a moment ago, she was certain of it. His dark hair was streaked with silver at the temples, and his eyes were an unusual shade of amber that seemed to shift color in the light.

        "This is a closed crime scene," she said firmly, her hand instinctively moving toward her weapon. "How did you get in here?"

        He smiled, but it didn't reach those strange eyes. "Dr. Marcus Thorne," he said, pulling out a card that somehow both looked official and seemed to shimmer slightly. "I'm a consulting specialist with the Department's new Oneiric Phenomena Division."

        "The what division?" Sarah frowned, taking the card. The moment her fingers touched it, she felt a slight electric tingle, and the letters seemed to rearrange themselves before her eyes.

        "Dreams, Detective Chen. We investigate crimes involving dreams." He moved into the room with fluid grace, his attention fixed on the victim. "And this is the third one this month."

        Sarah's mind raced. There had been two other deaths recently - both young women, both found peacefully dead in their sleep. She'd seen the reports but hadn't made the connection until now. "How do you know about those cases?"

        "Because I've been tracking the killer for quite some time." Thorne knelt beside the body, his eyes now definitely more gold than amber. "He's what we call a Dream Collector - someone who has learned to enter and steal dreams. But this one has developed a taste for more than just dreams. He's taking souls."

        Under normal circumstances, Sarah would have dismissed such talk as nonsense. But there was something about the scene, about the victim's still-moving eyes, about Thorne himself, that made the impossible seem suddenly plausible.

        "If you're tracking him," she said carefully, "why haven't you caught him?"

        Thorne's expression darkened. "Because he only appears in dreams. The physical world is my domain, but his... his is the realm of sleep. To catch him, we need someone who can walk between both worlds." He turned those unsettling eyes on her. "Someone like you."

        "Me?" Sarah almost laughed, but the sound died in her throat as memories she'd long suppressed began to surface. The dreams that felt too real, the nights she'd awakened to find objects moved in her room, the way she sometimes knew things she couldn't possibly know...

        "You've always known you were different, haven't you, Detective?" Thorne's voice was gentle now. "The dreams that come true, the hunches that turn out to be right, the way you can sometimes see how people died just by touching objects they owned..."

        Sarah took an involuntary step back. "How do you know about that?"

        "Because I've been looking for someone like you. A Natural - someone born with the ability to cross the threshold between waking and dreaming." He gestured to the victim. "Charlotte here won't be his last. There will be others, and their souls will remain trapped in an eternal dream unless we stop him."

        Just then, the victim's hand twitched, her fingers moving as if writing something. Sarah moved closer, watching as invisible words were traced in the air. Thorne pulled out what looked like an antique monocle and held it up. Through its lens, golden letters shimmered in the air where Charlotte's fingers moved.

        "Help me," Thorne read aloud. "He's coming for the others."

        Sarah felt a chill run down her spine. She looked at the victim's peaceful face, at those restlessly moving eyes, and made a decision that would change her life forever.

        "Tell me what I need to do."

        Thorne's smile was grim. "First, you need to learn to control your abilities. Then..." he held up the monocle, through which Sarah could now see strange symbols glowing all around the room, "you need to learn to hunt in dreams."

        Outside the Victorian townhouse, storm clouds gathered, and Sarah Chen, homicide detective and newly discovered dream walker, took her first step into a world where nightmares were real, and death was just another kind of sleep.

Chapter Two

The basement of the Natural History Museum was the last place Sarah expected to find the headquarters of a secret dream investigation unit. Yet here she was, following Thorne through a maze of storage rooms filled with artifacts that seemed to pulse with their own inner light.

        "The mundane world only sees what it expects to see," Thorne explained, using an ornate key to unlock a heavy wooden door marked 'Private Collection.' "To them, this is just museum storage. To us, it's the largest collection of dream artifacts in the Western Hemisphere."

        The room beyond defied physics. It stretched impossibly far, filled with glass cases containing everything from ancient masks to modern-looking devices. Floating orbs of soft light illuminated collections of bottled dreams - actual dreams, swirling like liquid mercury behind glass.

        "Your badge, Detective," Thorne held out his hand. Sarah hesitated before handing over her police credentials. He placed it on a strange device that looked like a Victorian music box crossed with a computer. When he returned the badge, it felt different - heavier, somehow more real.

        "Now you'll be able to access both worlds officially," he said. "Look at it again."

        The badge had changed. Alongside her regular police credentials, new text had appeared: 'Special Inspector, Oneiric Investigations Division.' The letters seemed to shift between English and something older, something that made her eyes water if she looked too long.

        "Before we can hunt the Dream Collector, you need to understand what you're dealing with." Thorne led her to a case containing what looked like a normal pillow. "Touch it."

        Sarah reached out hesitantly. The moment her fingers made contact, the world tilted. She was suddenly standing in someone else's dream - a sunny beach, but the sky was green and the sand whispered secrets. She jerked her hand back, gasping.

        "Good," Thorne nodded approvingly. "Most people can't pull back from their first dream artifact. You have natural barriers."

        "What was that?" Sarah's heart was racing.

        "A dream fragment from 1892. A young girl's last dream before the influenza took her." His voice softened. "We preserve them here. Dreams carry memories, emotions, sometimes even pieces of souls."

        "And this Dream Collector... he takes entire souls?" Sarah remembered Charlotte Mills' peaceful face and restless eyes.

        "He traps them in eternal dreams, feeding off their essence." Thorne moved to another case, this one containing what looked like a cracked mirror. "Each victim becomes part of his collection, their souls powering his abilities, letting him dreamwalk without natural talent like yours."

        Suddenly, the cracked mirror began to frost over. In its surface, Sarah saw Charlotte Mills' face, mouth open in a silent scream. Then another face appeared - another victim, she presumed - and another.

        "He's showing off," Thorne growled. "He knows we're investigating."

        The temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Frost patterns spread from the mirror to nearby cases, and Sarah heard what sounded like distant laughter.

        "Well, well," a voice echoed through the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere. "A new player in the game. And such interesting dreams you have, Detective Chen."

        Sarah felt something brush against her mind, like cold fingers trying to pry open a door. Instinctively, she slammed her mental barriers shut. The presence withdrew, but not before leaving behind an impression of amusement.

        "He's already caught your scent," Thorne said grimly. He pulled out a small velvet bag and removed what looked like a dreamcatcher made of silver wire and black pearls. "Wear this when you sleep. It won't keep him out entirely, but it'll stop him from stealing your dreams while you're still learning to defend yourself."

        As Sarah took the dreamcatcher, her fingers brushed Thorne's, and suddenly she was hit with a flash of his dreams - centuries of memories, battles fought in realms of sleep, and a profound sense of loss that made her gasp.

        Thorne withdrew his hand quickly. "Your abilities are stronger than I thought. We'll need to work on your control."

        "What are you?" Sarah asked directly. "You're not just some government consultant, are you?"

        Before he could answer, an alarm began to sound throughout the facility. One of the dream bottles had turned black, its contents writhing like smoke.

        "He's hunting again," Thorne said, already moving toward the exit. "Someone in the city has just entered their last dream. Are you ready for your first real case, Detective?"

        Sarah touched her new badge, feeling its power hum under her fingers. "Do we have time to save them?"

        "If we're lucky, we might catch him in the act. But remember - in dreams, he's incredibly powerful. One wrong move and you could lose your soul."

        As they rushed from the dream archive, Sarah caught one last glimpse of the cracked mirror. In its surface, she saw her own reflection smile back at her with eyes that weren't quite her own.

        The hunt was about to begin.

Chapter Two

The basement of the Natural History Museum was the last place Sarah expected to find the headquarters of a secret dream investigation unit. Yet here she was, following Thorne through a maze of storage rooms filled with artifacts that seemed to pulse with their own inner light.

        "The mundane world only sees what it expects to see," Thorne explained, using an ornate key to unlock a heavy wooden door marked 'Private Collection.' "To them, this is just museum storage. To us, it's the largest collection of dream artifacts in the Western Hemisphere."

        The room beyond defied physics. It stretched impossibly far, filled with glass cases containing everything from ancient masks to modern-looking devices. Floating orbs of soft light illuminated collections of bottled dreams - actual dreams, swirling like liquid mercury behind glass.

        "Your badge, Detective," Thorne held out his hand. Sarah hesitated before handing over her police credentials. He placed it on a strange device that looked like a Victorian music box crossed with a computer. When he returned the badge, it felt different - heavier, somehow more real.

        "Now you'll be able to access both worlds officially," he said. "Look at it again."

        The badge had changed. Alongside her regular police credentials, new text had appeared: 'Special Inspector, Oneiric Investigations Division.' The letters seemed to shift between English and something older, something that made her eyes water if she looked too long.

        "Before we can hunt the Dream Collector, you need to understand what you're dealing with." Thorne led her to a case containing what looked like a normal pillow. "Touch it."

        Sarah reached out hesitantly. The moment her fingers made contact, the world tilted. She was suddenly standing in someone else's dream - a sunny beach, but the sky was green and the sand whispered secrets. She jerked her hand back, gasping.

        "Good," Thorne nodded approvingly. "Most people can't pull back from their first dream artifact. You have natural barriers."

        "What was that?" Sarah's heart was racing.

        "A dream fragment from 1892. A young girl's last dream before the influenza took her." His voice softened. "We preserve them here. Dreams carry memories, emotions, sometimes even pieces of souls."

        "And this Dream Collector... he takes entire souls?" Sarah remembered Charlotte Mills' peaceful face and restless eyes.

        "He traps them in eternal dreams, feeding off their essence." Thorne moved to another case, this one containing what looked like a cracked mirror. "Each victim becomes part of his collection, their souls powering his abilities, letting him dreamwalk without natural talent like yours."

        Suddenly, the cracked mirror began to frost over. In its surface, Sarah saw Charlotte Mills' face, mouth open in a silent scream. Then another face appeared - another victim, she presumed - and another.

        "He's showing off," Thorne growled. "He knows we're investigating."

        The temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Frost patterns spread from the mirror to nearby cases, and Sarah heard what sounded like distant laughter.

        "Well, well," a voice echoed through the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere. "A new player in the game. And such interesting dreams you have, Detective Chen."

        Sarah felt something brush against her mind, like cold fingers trying to pry open a door. Instinctively, she slammed her mental barriers shut. The presence withdrew, but not before leaving behind an impression of amusement.

        "He's already caught your scent," Thorne said grimly. He pulled out a small velvet bag and removed what looked like a dreamcatcher made of silver wire and black pearls. "Wear this when you sleep. It won't keep him out entirely, but it'll stop him from stealing your dreams while you're still learning to defend yourself."

        As Sarah took the dreamcatcher, her fingers brushed Thorne's, and suddenly she was hit with a flash of his dreams - centuries of memories, battles fought in realms of sleep, and a profound sense of loss that made her gasp.

        Thorne withdrew his hand quickly. "Your abilities are stronger than I thought. We'll need to work on your control."

        "What are you?" Sarah asked directly. "You're not just some government consultant, are you?"

        Before he could answer, an alarm began to sound throughout the facility. One of the dream bottles had turned black, its contents writhing like smoke.

        "He's hunting again," Thorne said, already moving toward the exit. "Someone in the city has just entered their last dream. Are you ready for your first real case, Detective?"

        Sarah touched her new badge, feeling its power hum under her fingers. "Do we have time to save them?"

        "If we're lucky, we might catch him in the act. But remember - in dreams, he's incredibly powerful. One wrong move and you could lose your soul."

        As they rushed from the dream archive, Sarah caught one last glimpse of the cracked mirror. In its surface, she saw her own reflection smile back at her with eyes that weren't quite her own.

        The hunt was about to begin.

Chapter Three

They arrived at St. Bartholomew's Hospital just as the emergency lights began to flash. Sarah followed Thorne through corridors that seemed to blur at the edges of her vision, her new badge somehow clearing their path without ever being shown.

        "Room 307," Thorne said, his voice tight with urgency. "Young male, admitted for minor surgery, slipped into an unusual coma during recovery."

        The patient, David Parker, age 23, lay perfectly still on his hospital bed, his eyes moving rapidly beneath closed lids. Just like Charlotte Mills. But this time, something was different - the air around him rippled like heat waves over hot asphalt.

        "He's still in the process of taking him," Thorne said, pulling out what looked like an antique pocket watch. "We can follow if we're quick. Are you ready for your first dream dive?"

        Sarah's heart pounded. "What do I need to do?"

        "Take my hand. Focus on the patient. Let your consciousness slip between the moments of reality." Thorne's eyes began to glow that strange amber color. "And whatever you see in there, remember - dream logic is real logic in that world."

        Sarah grasped Thorne's hand and looked at David Parker. The world tilted, twisted, and suddenly...

        They were standing in a hospital corridor that wasn't quite right. The walls breathed slowly, the floor was made of flowing water that somehow supported their weight, and the ceiling was a swirling mass of constellation maps.

        "His dreamscape," Thorne explained, his voice echoing strangely. "Every dreamer creates their own reality. Look."

        Down the impossible corridor, a figure in a doctor's coat was leading David Parker by the hand. But the 'doctor' was wrong - his shadow moved independently, reaching out with grasping tendrils towards other dreams that floated past like soap bubbles.

        "The Dream Collector," Sarah whispered.

        As if hearing his name, the figure turned. Sarah's breath caught. His face was a beautiful mask of shifting features, never settling on one form, but his eyes... his eyes were endless pits of swirling dreams.

        "Ah, the new dreamer," his voice was like silk over broken glass. "And my old friend Marcus. Still trying to police the dream worlds?"

        Thorne stepped forward, and Sarah noticed his appearance had changed in the dream. His suit was now made of living shadows, and wings of dark light stretched from his shoulders. "Let him go, Collector. You've taken enough souls."

        The Collector laughed, the sound causing the hospital walls to crack, leaking golden dream-light. "Taken? Oh, Marcus, you still don't understand. They give themselves to me. Show her, David."

        The young man turned, and Sarah saw his eyes were glassy with bliss. "It's beautiful here," he said dreamily. "All my pain is gone. All my fears. He takes them all away."

        "By taking everything you are," Sarah found herself saying. She took a step forward, instinctively reaching for her police badge. In the dream, it transformed into a shield of pure light. "David, this isn't real healing. It's theft."

        The Collector's face rippled with anger. "You dare interrupt my collection?" The corridor began to twist, reality bending around them. "Let me show you what happens to those who interfere with my work."

        Suddenly, the floor beneath Sarah liquefied completely. She started to sink, but instead of water, she was drowning in dreams - thousands of them, each containing a fragment of someone's stolen soul. She saw Charlotte Mills dancing endlessly in a ballroom of mirrors, saw other victims trapped in perfect moments that had become eternal prisons.

        "Sarah!" Thorne's voice cut through the chaos. "Remember - dream logic! Make your own rules!"

        Dream logic. Sarah closed her eyes, focusing on her years of police work, of protecting people, of solving puzzles. When she opened them, her badge-shield had transformed into a sword of pure thought.

        With a cry, she slashed through the dream-flood. Reality reasserted itself - or at least, this dream's version of reality. She stood on solid ground again, facing the Collector.

        "Impressive," he purred, but she sensed uncertainty in his voice. "You're stronger than the usual dreamers Marcus recruits. Perhaps we could make a deal..."

        "No deals," Sarah said firmly. She could feel her power growing, reshaping the dream around them. "David, look at what he really is. Look with your heart, not your fears."

        For a moment, David's eyes cleared. The Collector's beautiful mask slipped, revealing something ancient and hungry beneath. David screamed, pulling away from the creature's grasp.

        The Collector snarled, his form shifting into something monstrous. "If I can't have him willingly..." Shadows exploded from his body, reaching for David.

        What happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion. Thorne spread his dark wings, shielding David. Sarah's sword of thought became a net of light, trapping some of the shadows. But the Collector himself simply... stepped sideways, vanishing into a door that appeared in the air.

        "Sweet dreams, detectives," his voice lingered behind. "We'll meet again soon. After all, Sarah, your dreams are particularly... appetizing."

        The dreamscape began to dissolve. Sarah felt Thorne grab her arm, pulling her back through layers of reality. Then...

        They were standing in the hospital room again. David Parker was awake, gasping, but alive and whole. A nurse was rushing in, responding to his sudden revival.

        "We saved one," Thorne said quietly. "But he'll be angry now. And he'll come for you."

        Sarah touched her badge, still feeling echoes of its dream-power. "Good," she said grimly. "Because I have some questions for him about Charlotte Mills. And about what you really are, Marcus Thorne."

        Thorne's expression was unreadable. "All in time, Detective. For now, you need to rest. Tomorrow, your real training begins."

        As they left the hospital, Sarah could have sworn she saw her shadow move independently, reaching for dreams that floated just beyond the edge of sight. The world would never look quite the same again.

Chapter Four

Sarah's apartment looked different when she returned that night. The shadows seemed deeper, more alive, and ordinary objects cast reflections that didn't quite match reality. The dreamcatcher Thorne had given her pulsed softly in her pocket, responding to the changed way she now saw the world.

        She was exhausted but afraid to sleep. The Collector's words echoed in her mind: 'Your dreams are particularly appetizing.' Instead, she spread her case files across the coffee table - photographs of Charlotte Mills, the other victims, and now David Parker's medical records.

        A soft chime from her badge interrupted her concentration. The metal had grown warm, and when she touched it, words appeared in that strange shifting script: 'Archive. Now. Emergency.'

        The museum was different at night. Sarah's new badge led her through doors that hadn't existed during her first visit, down stairs that seemed to descend far deeper than the building's foundation should allow. She found Thorne in a circular room she hadn't seen before, surrounded by floating screens of light that showed various dreamscapes.

        "We have a problem," he said without preamble. "The Collector's attack pattern has changed. Look."

        The screens shifted, showing a map of the city overlaid with points of light. "Each light is a dreamer," Thorne explained. "The blue ones are normal dreams. The red..." He gestured, and several dots pulsed an angry crimson. "Those are nightmares being actively shaped by outside forces."

        "He's attacking multiple targets at once?"

        "No." Thorne's expression was grim. "He's leaving traps. Dream-snares. Anyone who falls asleep in these areas risks being pulled into a constructed nightmare. He's trying to overwhelm our ability to respond."

        Sarah studied the pattern of red dots. "They're forming a shape... a symbol?"

        "A summoning circle." A new voice joined them. Sarah turned to see an elderly woman emerging from what appeared to be a door made of starlight. Her eyes were milk-white, but she moved with absolute certainty.

        "Sarah, meet Dr. Eleanor Price, the Archive's keeper," Thorne said. "And yes, she's blind in the waking world, but in dreams..."

        "I see everything," Eleanor finished. Her unseeing eyes fixed on Sarah with uncomfortable accuracy. "Including what our friend the Collector is truly planning. He's not just taking souls anymore. He's building toward something larger."

        She gestured, and the room transformed around them. They were suddenly standing in what looked like a vast library, but the books were made of dreams, their pages flowing like liquid memory.

        "Every dream ever archived is stored here," Eleanor explained. "Including the oldest nightmares of humanity. The Collector isn't just a thief - he's trying to wake something that should stay sleeping. Something we locked away centuries ago."

        She pulled a book from the shelf, and its pages burst open, projecting a scene of ancient horror - a time when the boundary between dreams and reality was thinner, when nightmares could walk in daylight.

        "The Last Nightmare," Thorne said softly. "We thought it was safely contained, but if he completes that summoning circle..."

        A sudden tremor ran through the Archive. One of the red dots on the map had grown larger, pulsing violently.

        "He's starting," Eleanor's voice was urgent. "Sarah, you need to see something before you face this." She pressed her fingers to Sarah's forehead, and suddenly...

        She was in a memory. A younger Thorne stood with a woman who looked remarkably like Sarah herself, facing down a shadow that threatened to devour the world. The woman - another dream detective? - sacrificed herself to help seal away the nightmare.

        "Your mother," Eleanor's voice echoed in her mind. "She was one of us. Her sacrifice helped lock away the Last Nightmare, but the Collector has never stopped trying to free it. And now he's found you - her daughter, with her power."

        The vision ended abruptly as another tremor shook the Archive. More red dots were pulsing on the map.

        "Why didn't you tell me?" Sarah demanded, turning to Thorne.

        "Because I promised her I'd keep you away from this life," he replied, pain evident in his voice. "But now the Collector knows who you are, and we're running out of time."

        "The summoning circle will be complete at the next new moon," Eleanor added. "Three days from now. If the Last Nightmare wakes..."

        "Then we stop him before that happens," Sarah said firmly, though her mind was reeling from the revelations. "How do we break these dream-snares?"

        "It's dangerous," Thorne warned. "Each one is a trap designed specifically for dream walkers. If you're caught..."

        "Then you'll just have to watch my back," Sarah said. She touched her badge, feeling its power respond. "Where do we start?"

        Eleanor smiled, her blind eyes somehow twinkling. "First, you need to understand what you truly inherited from your mother. It's time you learned about the true history of the dream walkers - and why the Collector fears your bloodline above all others."

        As if in response to Eleanor's words, the books around them began to glow, their pages rustling with the weight of secrets about to be revealed. In the map above, the red dots pulsed like a countdown to catastrophe, and Sarah realized she had less than three days to master powers she never knew she had.

        The true game was about to begin.

Direnilmesi gereken yanlışlara, Yardım edilmesi gereken doğrulara, Uzaktaki geleceğe, Kendinizi verin.
-Carrie Chapman Catt

Büyük ölçüde ABD Ordusu Sinyal Birliği'nin olağanüstü kadınlarının sayısız günlük kayıtlarına ve yazışmalarına dayanıyor olsa da, Hattaki Kızlar, anlatının iyiliği için zaman zaman sanatsal özgürlükler aldığım bir tarihi kurgu eseridir.

BÖLÜM 1
6 Aralık 1917
Philadelphia, PA
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Her şey annemin gözetiminde, işe alınan kızımız Evangeline tarafından mükemmel bir şekilde pişirilir ve büfede davetkâr bir şekilde sergilenirdi. Buluşma sırasında Evangeline, annemin genellikle tatil günleri için ayırdığı servisten her fincanı dumanı tüten sıcak kahveyle doldurmakla görevlendirilirdi. Savaş zamanında kıt kaynaklarla müsrif ya da savurgan görünmemeye özen gösterilirdi ama annem Main Line'daki hanımların zor zamanların Wagner'lerin evine yaklaştığını düşünmelerini de istemezdi.
Annem menüde olduğu gibi benim kıyafetlerim için de çok uğraştı. Ekru dantelli bordo saten fazla dekadan, gri yün etek ve sade gömlek ise fazla sadeydi. Sonunda, sade, kahverengi, kadife bir öğleden sonra elbisesinin bu durum için şık ve kullanışlı bir karışım olduğuna karar verildi. Main Line'da yeniydik ve her şeyin mükemmel olması gerekiyordu. Para burada sosyeteye kabul edilmeyi satın alamazdı; bunu ancak soylular yapabilirdi ve annem ağabeyim Francis'in ve benim sağlam evlilikler yapmamızı sağlamaya kararlıydı.
Francis'le aramızda sadece bir yaş vardı ve savaş çıkana kadar birbirimizden ayrılmadık. Yaşımız ilerlediğinde ve onun erkek uğraşları onu çoğu zaman benim alanımdan uzaklaştırdığında bile, annemin zorlu programlarını aşarak birbirimizle zaman geçirmenin yollarını bulduk. Birkaç tembel cumartesi öğleden sonrasını bisiklete binmek (ki annem bunu yapmamı yasaklamıştı) ya da Delaware'de kanoya binmek (ki bunların her biri pantolon gerektiriyordu) için sosyal çağrıları atladığımız oldu. Annem onları da yasaklamıştı ama Francis benim için çekmecelerinden birinin arkasında sakladığı sağlam bir çift külot pantolon ve yün diz çorapları vardı. Onları gizli tutmak en sevdiğimiz şakalardan biriydi ve çamaşırlarla birlikte gizlice içeri sokmak, onları gerekli kılan açık hava maceraları kadar büyük bir maceraydı. Yatağıma kurbağalar saklamış, saçımı çekmiş ve benimle acımasızca dalga geçmişti ve ben o kaygısız günleri çok özlemiştim. Çocukken kedi köpek gibi kavga ettiğimiz göz önüne alındığında, insanlar sık sık yakın arkadaşlığımızı merak ederdi, ancak gerçek şu ki, birbirimizin sürekli yoldaşı ve müttefikiydik. Ta ki Francis, Nisan ayında askere gitmek için can atarken askere yazılana kadar. Mühendislik eğitimi aldığı için On Birinci İstihkâm Alayı'na alınmıştı.
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"Daha iyi. Sadece seninki gibi sarı bukleleri olan bir kız kahverengiyi rüküşten başka bir şeye benzetebilir," dedi annem memnuniyetle, Kızıl Haç gönüllülerinin gelmesinden çeyrek saat önce salonda onu denetlemek için dönerken. Kederli bir iç çekişle kendi morumsu kahverengi saçlarını okşadı. Korsem yanlarımda sıkıştı. Annem salondaki şöminenin misafirlerimiz için sürekli yanmasında ısrar ettiğinden, elbisenin kalın kumaşı boğucuydu.
"Çok şık görünüyorsun Ruby," diye onayladı babam, gazetesinin krem rengi bej sayfalarını bir kenara bırakarak. "Genç Nathaniel'in bu öğleden sonra yoğun bir şekilde çalışırken seni bu kadar güzel görememesi ne yazık. Cesur askerlerimizden herhangi biri kolunda böyle güzel bir gençle görülmekten gurur duyardı."
Nişanlım Nathaniel Morgan'dan bahsedilince zayıf bir gülümseme takındım. Askere gitmeden önce bana verdiği büyük yakut yüzük elime ağır geliyordu. Taş seçiminin oldukça zekice olduğunu düşünmüştü. Herkes öyle düşünüyor gibiydi. Birleşik Devletler Nisan ayında savaşa girdiğinde, tanıdıklarımız arasında askere kaydolan ilk erkeklerden biriydi ve vatanseverlik coşkusu takdire şayandı. Yakışıklı biriydi; aristokrat bir burnu ve yaşının ötesinde bilge görünen adaçayı yeşili gözleri vardı. Nazik ve çabuk gülen biriydi ve annem için en önemlisi, eski ve saygın bir aileden geliyor olmasıydı. Zaman zaman işlerin gösterişli ve sıkıcı tarafına kaymış olsa da, bunun pek bir önemi yok gibiydi. Bazı okul arkadaşlarımın bana anlattıklarına göre evlilik, kiminle evlenirseniz evlenin heyecan verici bir iş değildi. Makul beklentilere sahip olmak daha iyi görünüyordu.
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"Bence de öyle," diye onayladı annem. "Ne zaman bir erkek bu davetlerden birine katılsa tüm atmosfer mahvoluyor."
"Fazladan bir çift el atmosferden daha önemli değil mi anne?" Ses tonumdaki arsızlığı koruyarak sordum. Eğer toplantıya benim sebep olduğum yıpranmış sinirlerle başlarsa, beni asla affetmezdi.

"Zorluk çıkarma Ruby," dedi annem gözlerini küçümser bir ifadeyle devirerek. "Ve Bayan Lawson'ın gelecek Perşembe yine ev sahipliği yapacağını unutma. Seni de yanımda bekliyorum."
"Anne, zaten Merkez Ofis'teki iki vardiyam için yalvardım. Bir daha olursa Bayan Trainor çok fazla iş kaçırdığım için beni azarlayabilir."
"Argo konuşmana dikkat et," dedi annem, masa örtüsünde var olmayan bir kırışıklığı düzeltirken. "Evdeki yükümlülüklerini etkilemediği sürece çalışabileceğin konusunda anlaşmıştık. Sanırım Nettie Morgan ne zaman senin 'işin' gündeme gelse konuyu değiştiriyor."
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"Cephedeki çocuklarımız için çorap örüyorum Paul. Yaptığımız şeyi önemsizleştirme." Annenin omuzları dikleşti ve yüz hatları gerildi. Babanın ifadesi hemen yumuşadı.
"Hayatta olmaz canım, ama telefon şirketini çok fazla rahatsız etmemeye dikkat et. Onlar da Ruby'ye güveniyor."
"Kızımızın yönetimini bana bıraktığın için teşekkür ederim, Paul Wagner." Anne, tatsız konuşmaları sonlandırmak için kullandığı ses tonunu takındı.
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"Ruby burada yaptıklarımızın çok önemli olduğunu biliyor," dedi annem veda ederken ve yanağına yakın havayı öptü. Onun gözünde bu doğruydu. Elbette Kızıl Haç cepheye çok ihtiyaç duyulan malzemeler gönderiyordu ama bu, Anne'nin gözünde ikinci plandaydı. Bu işlevler öncelikle annemin bir öğleden sonra boyunca Philadelphia'nın sunduğu en iyi sosyetenin dikkatini çekmesine hizmet ediyordu. Varlığım bizi birleşik bir cephe olarak göstermek için gerekliydi. Sevecen bir anne ve onun sadık kızı. Annem asla söylemese de, Nathaniel ve benim henüz evli olmadığımız gerçeği vardı. Savaş zaten uzun bir işti ve sonuçları nadiren beklediğimiz gibi oluyordu. Nathaniel eve dönmezse, annemin mükemmel eş arayışı yeniden başlayacaktı. Benim müstakbel kayınvalidelerle sargı bezi sarmam, günümü santrale bağlı olarak geçirmemden çok daha fazla işe yarayacaktı.
"Birkaç dakika içinde burada olacaklar, canım. Gülümsemeyi unutma. Nettie Morgan'la otur tabii ama kimseyi ihmal etme. Özellikle de Bayan Sinclair ya da Bayan Dewhurst'ü." Main Line'daki en nüfuzlu iki kadın. İkisinden birinin söyleyeceği tek bir söz Philadelphia'daki herhangi bir kadının sosyal anlamda yükselmesini sağlayabilirdi. İkisinin de kocası, babamın katılmayı çok istediği Union League'deydi. İkisinin de uygun oğulları vardı.
"Evet, anne," dedim dudaklarımın kenarlarını yukarı doğru çevirmeye zorlayarak. Bir hanımefendi her zaman gülümsemeye hazırdır. Annem bu sözleri o kadar sık tekrarlamıştı ki kafatasıma kazınmıştı. Başkalarının İncil'i incelediği gibi o da edep ve eğlence üzerine kitaplar okurdu.
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Genç bir başhemşire olan Alice Harper, örgü şişleri hızla tıkırdarken, "Çocuklardan uzak bir öğleden sonra geçirmek çok güzel," diye itirafta bulundu.
"Küçük Robert ve James yaramazlık mı yapıyorlar?" Anne hoşgörülü bir gülümsemeyle sordu, örmekte olduğu çorap çoktan şekillenmeye başlamıştı. Francis'in maskaralıklarına her zaman eğlenerek bakmıştı. Benimkine ise şaşkınlıkla.
"Oğlanlar sanırsın, ama hayır. Benim küçük Louise'im şimdiye kadar nefes almış en sevgili kız, ama üç yaşında bile benim ölümüm olabilir. Bu sabah onu aramak için bir saat harcadım. Kapımızın önünden kaçırıldığından emindim. O küçük haylazı nerede bulduğumu hayal edebiliyor musunuz?"
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Alice yüzünü buruşturarak, "Walter'ın tavuk kümesinde," dedi. Kocasının savaş zamanında yaptığı ev çiftçiliği deneyi onun için her zaman bir sıkıntı kaynağı olmuştu. Özellikle de horoz şafak vakti öttüğünde. "Tavuklardan biriyle kıvrılmış, mışıl mışıl uyuyordu. Ona neden kaçtığını sorduğumda ne dedi biliyor musunuz? O mübarek kız Belçika'daki aç çocuklar için yumurtladığını söyledi. Hiç yumurtlamadığı için utanıyordu, bu yüzden bir sepet dolusu yumurtlayana kadar eve dönmek istemedi."
"Ne tatlı bir kız," dedim, iğnelerimin altında yavaşça açılan haki eşarbın bir ilmeğini düşürmemeye dikkat ederek. İğnelerle aram hiç iyi olmamıştı ve diğer hanımların bir yandan sohbet ederken bir yandan da şaşırtıcı bir hızla kusursuz çoraplar, kazaklar ve şapkalar üretebilmelerine imreniyordum. "O bile üzerine düşeni yapmak istiyor."
"Hepimiz yapmalıyız," dedi Bayan Dewhurst, elleri iğneleri ustalıkla kullanırken. "Yine de tüm alışverişin bu kadar erken yapılmasının Noel sezonu gibi hissettirmediğini söyleyebilirim. Minnie ve Robert'a üç hafta önce paket gönderdim. O gün geldiğinde, eski bir haber gibi gelecek."
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"Çok doğru, Bayan Morgan. Merkez Ofis'te işler nasıl, Ruby canım?" Alice sordu. "Çok heyecanlı olmalı."
Sandalyemde biraz daha dik oturdum. "Oh, 'heyecan verici'nin 'ilginç' kadar doğru bir terim olduğundan emin değilim. Ve meşgul. Sanırım bir vardiya geçip gidiyor ve sanki sadece dakikalar geçmiş gibi geliyor."
"Vay, vay," diye araya girdi annem, bana o çok istediği sert bakışı atmadan. "Nathaniel eve dönene ve o da senin gibi kendi ailesiyle meşgul olana kadar yapacak bir işi olması onun için güzel, Alice."

Alice bana bilmiş bir gülümsemeyle bakarak, "Eminim sen ve Nathaniel kısa sürede kendi yavrularınıza sahip olacaksınız," dedi. "Bence günde saatlerce bu davaya yardım etmenin bir yolunu bulmuş olman harika bir şey."
Bayan Dewhurst, "Duyduk duymadık demeyin," diye araya girdi. "Ruby'nin çalışması takdire şayan. Keşke daha çok genç kız böyle cesur ve kararlı olsa. Eğer Ruby gibi daha çok kız olsaydı, savaş şimdiye kadar bitmiş olurdu."
Tıkırdayan iğnelerinin üzerinden bana gülümseyen yaşlı kadına gülümsedim.
"mB*i^zaimL oiğlanPlxaJrıY Igöncderdimğifmize (gPökreJ wsa_vmaéş hemen bYitekcek," dxedZiG AliAcÉeY. "TWLaRljteBry'!ı!m on,uV a&lZmad^ık$laHr$ı! iÉçSin çoHk' kıIzSgın damOa hay$a!tımj boaypuBncaZ onun köKthüé diAzlQerrine hiç& DbCu _kadVar seRvinmLeÉmuişDt)ima.q"
Alice, kocasının askere yazılmak için diğer erkekler kadar istekli olduğunu ve bunun iyi bir nedeni olduğunu söyleme fırsatını asla kaçırmazdı. Zavallı Walter muhtemelen korkaklık suçlamalarından kaçınmak için askerlik şubesinin ret mektubunu alnına dövme yaptırmayı düşünmüştü.
"Sevgili Nathaniel'den haber aldın mı?" Annem, yanımda sessizce örgü ören ve parmaksız eldivenlerinde hepimizin projelerinden daha fazla ilerleme kaydetmiş olan Nettie Morgan'a sordu.
"Daha geçen hafta," diye cevap verdi, temkinli bir gülümsemeyle. Sanırım annemin düğünden önce Nathaniel'i "bizim" olarak kabul etmesinden hoşlanmamıştı. "Beklenebileceği kadar iyi gidiyor. Henüz fazla hareket görmemişler gibi geliyor. Bu onu hayal kırıklığına uğratmışa benziyor. Hepsi gibi o da mücadeleye katılmak için sabırsızlanıyor."
"VEğitIi_mZ zaman aól$ısr.,t", CdIedia BuaÉyaKnK ÉS!inctladir. d"UmwalımS Dda çokcukla(rıGmUız wtehWlikUeyXeH atcılmadqagnh dönceT so_nya ersin&."
"Amin," dedi Bayan Morgan. "Bu korkunç bir iş, hepsi bu."
Bayan Dewhurst, "Ve burada yaptığımız iş, siperdeki çocuklarımız için her şeyi biraz daha az korkunç hale getiriyor," dedi. "Mabel, bugün çok iyi bir iş çıkardın. Benimki gibi yaşlı kemikler için hem verimli hem de rahat bir toplantı yapabilen birini daha önce gördüğümü sanmıyorum. Tebrik edilmelisin."
Kibar bir alkış tufanı annemin dudaklarının bir gülümsemeye dönüşmesine neden oldu. Sanki tebrikleri noktalamak istercesine kapının zili çaldı. Evangeline, annesinin onu eğittiği gibi sakin ama hızlı adımlarla kapıya doğru yürüdü.
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Evangeline yeniden ortaya çıktı, yanında iğnelerini almaya hazır başka bir gönüllü yoktu, tek başınaydı. Anneme uzatırken titreyen ellerinde ince bir kâğıt parçası sallanıyordu.
Bana çok yakındı ama bir Western Union telgraf zarfının sarı imzasını tanıdım. Annem zarfı açtı, içindekileri gözden geçirdi ve girişteki duvara yapıştırdığımız telefona koşmadan önce kâğıdı bana uzattı.
6 ARALIK 1917
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