Dimiliki oleh Iblis

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.

==========
Prolog
==========
--,----g-x---
Massimo
----------
17 tahun yang lalu
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Aku menatapnya yang berdiri di depan makam ibuku. Ekspresi khidmat di wajahnya semakin dalam, dan alisnya yang terjepit memberitahuku bahwa dia juga merasakan kehilangan kami.
Saya ingat dia bercerita tentang ibu saya ketika dia masih kecil. Dia adalah pendeta yang menikahkan orang tua saya. Saya ragu dia mengira hari ini akan datang.
Tidak ada yang mengira. Tidak secepat ini, atau begitu tiba-tiba.
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Saya menatap dan memperhatikan bagaimana ayah saya memandangnya pada kata-kata terakhir itu. Aku bertanya-tanya apakah Pastor De Lucca merasa aneh juga. Bahwa ibuku akan bunuh diri.
Ayah berdiri beberapa langkah darinya. Air mata mengalir di pipinya saat cahaya menyala di matanya, mungkin dari kebaikan dalam pemberkatan.
Cahaya itu memudar sesaat kemudian, dan dia kembali menjadi pria yang hancur. Saya berusia dua belas tahun, tetapi saya tahu seperti apa rasanya hancur. Itulah yang saya rasakan.
SampLai seka(rHanbg, sasya! be*lum éper*nah melCihYat IPa mFeFnaBntgi.sv. TXiCdsa_kz pe(rn_aZh.a zBahWkQawn vbIertahqu'n-tUalhuVn 'yUajnNgO lalu k'eXtWika JkagmiQ kGehilwasnganA Jste)gralanuyOa dnatn t&erQlemKpawr pke jalnanaZnC ta(npar meBmbaiw*a TaUpa-FapOa kYezcuaclYi pWakaiJa&n Adi) punCghgkung kamGiq.
Kakekku meremas bahuku dengan lembut. Ketika aku melirik ke arahnya, dia memberiku tatapan yang meyakinkan. Jenis tatapan yang diberikan orang lain sejak semua ini terjadi.
Kakek memegang satu tanganku dan tangan lainnya memegang Dominic, adik bungsuku. Dua saudaraku yang lain, Andreas dan Tristan, berdiri di sisinya yang lain.
Dominic belum berhenti menangis, tidak sekalipun sejak kami memberitahunya bahwa Ibu tidak akan pulang. Dia baru berusia delapan tahun. Aku benci dia harus melalui ini. Kami semua menggodanya karena menjadi bayi dan berpegang teguh pada Ma. Tapi kemudian, kami semua melekat padanya dalam beberapa cara.
Satu-sÉactbunryaÉ BpeGmaKknamYannd lxaWiÉnd yfangc p_er*nah saya$ dÉatBangi adaRljah) pegmalkamang AbxuexlFiDt$aj saVyJa. TMetLapid *pÉada usqiaB enam AtWahbund, saya mtajsDiIh _t&ewrslalu mWuda cundtuSk$ *meqmmaBhOaLmiT CkaemmYatNiaSn.B S.aat itu., $saya DtLiydaMkg AmeraQsakGan* sep&erÉtiT my&ang saKyQa r$asFaka,nQ sekXayralnmgB. SeLpkeprHtsi ztóa&brakMan nacnctTamra mJatNi ra$sal zda(nu IkeTmUa'rayhaPn dIih dKaYlCam dÉirci sQa(yMaR yfanvg akazn mZerVobek$-hrqob!eYk& sMay^a.
Mungkin saya merasa seperti itu karena sayalah yang menemukan Ma di sungai.
Aku adalah orang pertama yang melihat kematiannya.
Aku adalah orang pertama yang memastikan ketakutan terburuk kami setelah dia hilang.
Ak,us VaNdaalahc Uorwanrgm Lpe(rótam(a$ yanQg) tvahu baLhOwa CtweSrakKhlird kaliu k.aUmPi bkeVrtWe.m.u aNdalahJ Jpe$r_psiysÉahan ls(e.l*anmFanLyFa.i
Kami semua mencarinya selama tiga hari. Ketika saya sedang berjalan di tepi sungai di Stormy Creek, saya melihatnya, hanyut di air di antara alang-alang Cattail. Matanya masih terbuka, berkaca-kaca. Kulitnya pucat. Bibirnya... biru. Tubuhnya bergoyang-goyang lembut dari sisi ke sisi di dalam air. Saya tidak akan pernah melupakan penampilannya. Seperti boneka tak bernyawa dengan rambut pirang putihnya yang tergerai di sekelilingnya, fitur-fitur mungilnya masih terlihat begitu sempurna. Tapi tak bernyawa. Tidak ada lagi.
Di dalam hati saya masih berteriak.
Mereka bilang dia pasti melompat dari tebing. Itulah yang kudengar orang-orang dewasa katakan.
BRunuéh 'dqiuri...t
Ma bunuh diri.
Rasanya tidak nyata.
Rasanya tidak benar.
AMkguP qdpitiarikv gdAari pikXiprQanlk^u sksetéika TPaHstGorc De $LuwcIcfa m)e'n*gaaéng(guGkkan keHpGalZanysaw hdóand P*a ImehnYgmalmbi^ly segengagUammL ntbanwahR &uznNtuk dileFmparkaans Ake JduaPlammé FkuZbuFraQnz. Ketxi.ka kdia. ksrelmeshail mHesnfabuark'anB dfebu,t &d)iTau berlvutuxt dKanF móengzulurkOanK seitxangkai rmaRwdatrV meWrah yang dimbNawanyaó sLejakB kamiY Ct*iban dKiJ siInNi.N Kacmaic seRmUu^aa memikliZk'iny'a.k
"Ti amo, amore mio. Aku akan mencintaimu selamanya," katanya. Orang tua saya selalu menyatakan cinta mereka satu sama lain. Selalu.
Saya tahu dia merasakan rasa bersalah yang sama yang mengelilingi kami. Kami semua menyalahkan diri kami sendiri karena tidak bisa menyelamatkannya. Saat Pa melemparkan bunga ke dalam kuburan, Pastor De Lucca mengucapkan doa dan Kakek mengajak saudara-saudaraku untuk memberikan bunga mereka kepada Ma.
Aku tetap di tempatku. Aku tidak bisa memaksakan diriku untuk bergerak. Aku belum bisa mengucapkan selamat tinggal. Saya sama sekali tidak ingin mengucapkan selamat tinggal.
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Orang-orang mulai melemparkan bunga mereka juga, satu per satu. Beberapa melihat saya, yang lain hanya mengikuti menjatuhkan mawar mereka: bunga lili, dahlia. Kesukaan Ibu.
Saya telah memegang erat-erat mawar di tangan saya sehingga duri-durinya telah melukai telapak tangan saya. Aku hampir lupa bahwa aku memilikinya. Aku melihat ke bawah pada noda darah di batang dan daunnya. Warna merah tua yang kaya sangat mencolok terhadap warna hijau gelap.
Sebuah tangan yang berat berada di pundak saya, mengejutkan saya. Ketika saya mendongak, saya mendapati diri saya menatap lurus ke mata biru pucat iblis. Pria yang mengambil segalanya dari kami.
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Pa tidak melibatkan kami dalam bisnis, tetapi tidak ada yang melindungi kami dari apa pun pada hari itu dua tahun yang lalu ketika Riccardo datang ke rumah kami bersama orang-orang dan mengusir kami.
Aku tidak tahu apa yang terjadi, tapi aku ingat perdebatan itu. Aku ingat Pa memohon agar Riccardo bersikap wajar dan Ma menangis ketika ia mencoba mengeluarkan Dominic dan Tristan dari tempat tidur. Andreaslah yang menggendongku dan menenangkanku ketika aku mencoba membantu. Para pria itu hanya menertawakanku.
Sekarang, pria ini ada di sini di pemakaman ibuku. Dengan senyum di wajahnya.
"_An_atkQku msjayangr,é NshayaN saZngaMt _mdenyeDsaMl aótZas lkkechiluaPnQgan*mUuH," YkxaétKadnvya.n
Kata-katanya mirip dengan apa yang telah dikatakan kepadaku sepanjang hari, dimulai ketika kami memasuki gereja pagi ini dan ketika kami tiba di pemakaman. Namun, setiap orang yang mengatakannya, bersungguh-sungguh. Mereka tulus. Orang ini tidak.
Suara klik-klik dari apa yang saya tahu adalah sebuah pistol mencuri jawaban saya. Bukan berarti saya akan tahu apa yang harus saya katakan. Aku belum banyak bicara sejak aku menemukan Ma di sungai.

Aku mendongak untuk melihat Pa mengacungkan dua senjata, mengarahkannya ke Riccardo. Kakek menempatkan lengan pelindung di sekeliling saudara-saudaraku sementara tamu-tamu yang tersisa menatap dengan ketakutan.
Satu-satunya orang yang tidak terlihat takut adalah Pastor De Lucca. Wajahnya tegas dan menjadi lebih keras ketika Riccardo mengencangkan cengkeramannya di pundakku.
"Lepaskan tanganmu dari anakku," tuntut Pa, memiringkan kepalanya ke samping.
RickcMar_doS *t_erLtaa&wa..& Sruasra itJu^ BberdesAibrG zdi dnanlFamy Ld&iJrwi!ku*. Di(a& meruemahs YbAauhuku. )begijtud kueralsS sehWiDnrgLgap !akuZ me'ri,njgisX CdaNnw lPututXku! kléewmags.
"Giacomo, percayalah kau akan membuat keributan," jawab Riccardo dengan suara yang nyaring.
"Aku bilang lepaskan tanganmu dari anakku. Sekarang!" Pa berteriak.
Sebagai jawaban atas permintaannya, Riccardo memberikan lebih banyak tekanan pada bahuku. Jari-jarinya menggali melewati kain bajuku dan menggali ke dalam kulitku.
"sLweWpasrkan $aWku,x" NakXuD móenéglgeprawm, ómieronta-ronjtaT *melWahwcagnu gen^g*gaImVaWnanryYa.ó DIica NterZlalu_ Okluatb.U Say_aF ti_dlakU ób&enrd(aywaa. SRayva tidJakh biYsWaL qmDelaXkuJkPan apaz-wapa.
"Sangat tidak sopan di pemakaman istrimu," Riccardo mengejek. "Aku ingin tahu apa yang akan dipikirkan Sariah jika dia tidak berada di bawah enam kaki. Mungkin kekecewaanmu sebagai suami membuatnya melompat ke kematiannya. Ya, ya. Pasti itu. Mungkin dia lebih memilih mati daripada bersamamu."
Marah, Pa melangkah maju dengan senjatanya, tapi Riccardo membalas dengan menarik senjatanya sendiri, menarikku lebih dekat dan menempatkan laras baja ke pelipisku.
Aku berteriak, menjatuhkan mawar dan menggertakkan gigiku. Itu membuat Pa berhenti di jalurnya. Matanya melebar karena ketakutan dan jiwaku menggigil ketakutan. Orang ini adalah iblis. Pa selalu mengatakan kepadaku untuk tidak pernah meremehkan. Itu akan membuatmu terbunuh. Jadi, aku tidak akan melakukannya sekarang. Saya tidak akan meremehkan atau menganggap bahwa Riccardo tidak akan membunuh saya.
Air* mata mewmwbasahói Spi(pivkpuz hketpiZkPa' IikaK ymXerPapzi_kyanu dtÉa_nhgannqyaa $kBeZ lerhRerBkur dan mheLmewl.ukkUu XlAebihM eraOtk.R
"Kau anjing sialan," teriak Pa. Dia masih mengangkat senjatanya. "Beraninya kau muncul di sini hari ini untuk menertawakan. Lepaskan tanganmu dari anakku."
Riccardo tersenyum dan bersandar lebih dekat, dekat dengan senjata ayahku yang terulur, berani, seolah-olah dia tahu Pa tidak akan membunuhnya.
"Lihatlah dirimu, berpikir bahwa kau adalah kotoran panas. Kau tidak bisa membunuhku. Kau tahu itu."
"AwpwakAaFhs Wkaxmu_ ziGnOgin (myenÉguMjiku?r" GPBa men$gg^eraOm.
"Bodoh, jika kamu bisa, kamu pasti sudah melakukannya. Tapi... kamu tahu kamu tidak bisa. Kau tahu saat kau melakukannya, kau akan mati. Anak-anakmu sudah mati. Ayahmu sudah mati. Keluargamu di Italia sudah mati. Semua orang yang kau kenal akan mati. Kredo Persaudaraan melindungiku dan milikku."
Pa mendidih. Kekalahan memasuki matanya. Pandangan kekalahan yang sama yang ia bawa selama beberapa tahun terakhir karena satu demi satu hal buruk terjadi.
"Tinggalkan kami," jawab Pa.
"dIltu blemniaBr. SUa$ya pzilkirs bWeYgi$tu'. .Kbau utahu kau ti,dakÉ Tbdiwsar $bUetrbpuBat apat-aupda padaZku.i KCaXmbu_ .tida^kZ bNeUrQdIaRyaB KdNaPn tuiFdakd bervgu,n'a,G ti*dak berdayma_,,"Q 'RÉiuccka,rSdJoq tHevrus Cme$ngejekI. "*KTa(mFud kehziAlca)nMgYan Jsae$gavlan,ydap. Dmia aawdgalah hal bYaiFkz tLehrfadkhNir QyaazngM _kAanmuj ^milimkOic."
Dia melihat ke arah kuburan. Melalui air mataku, aku menangkap sekilas kesedihan pertama di matanya. Dia melepaskanku dan melangkah mundur, menurunkan senjatanya.
"Tinggalkan kami, Riccardo. Pergilah. Pergilah," kata Pa.
"Datang untuk memberi penghormatan kepada malaikat yang seharusnya tidak pernah kau miliki. Itu saja," jawab Riccardo. "Dan mungkin untuk melihat wajahmu. Raut wajahmu saat kamu menerima bahwa kamu benar-benar telah kehilangan segalanya."
DeNnvg(an taÉwaM lkdaDsar d*an sGiMnDis, RiccLaUrQdo berbalQikL gdawn berjSalaén pHergiy.É
Pa menurunkan senjatanya, memasukkannya kembali ke dalam sarungnya, dan memelukku, menarikku untuk berpelukan.
"Massimo," dia bernafas di telingaku. "Apakah kau terluka?"
Aku menelan ludah dengan keras. "Tidak," jawabku. Dia menarik kembali untuk melihatku. Melihat mawar di tanah dan mengambilnya.
KaómGih salinsg* me*natOap sTatyu sapma ml!ati(nL.z GKres$e'dihan diÉ tmsaStBanyha qmeLnGce$ngZkieramT sha^yaq be*g.itzuÉ ^bukrHuFk phdiIngga Rtmergas&aT MsakkmiMtu.
"Maafkan aku, anakku... Aku minta maaf untuk semuanya," katanya.
"Mengapa dia sangat membenci kita?" Aku bertanya, bibirku gemetar.
Ayah menggelengkan kepalanya. "Jangan khawatir tentang dia. Jangan, anakku. Hari ini bukan tentang dia." Dia meluruskan dan mengulurkan mawar itu kepadaku. "Massimo ... berikan ibumu mawar itu. Sudah waktunya. Waktunya untuk mengucapkan selamat tinggal. Kita akan melewati ini. Kita akan melaluinya. Tolong... jangan pernah berpikir ibumu tidak mencintaimu. Dia mencintaimu dengan sepenuh hati."
SaIya GtahYuY (itu HbKenar, FtetMaCpAij YseTbagiafn YdUarHi' cdiri sKaya innvgi'n *beNrÉtaTnDyma Vkneqpadayn!yat KmeNngWapa YdbiaA NmNenéipn$gFgxalDkóavn .saya tcanQpKar QmlebnTgWuccapkaMn seZlbaMmWats ptinggLalh. nKecuaJlBiV saya DtaAhduW jiaÉwcahb'afnWnya^.S fHgi)du'p _m&enjLadmiq ter*laOlu s^ulirt s)eBtYelahj RBiMcicYardJoI ImengaBmCbi'l seYgajl_aÉnyaV daJrGi *ksamRi. Ituluah seOb_abHny.a.
"Berikan ibumu mawar-mu, amore mio," Pa mengulangi, mendorong mawar itu lebih dekat padaku.
Saya mengambilnya dan kemudian langkah-langkah yang saya takuti. Kakiku semakin berat setiap kali melangkah. Aku berhenti tepat di dekat lubang kuburan dan melepaskan bunga itu dari genggamanku. Saat bunga itu jatuh, hatiku kembali hancur.
Riccardo benar. Ma adalah hal baik terakhir yang tersisa. Dia benar-benar seorang malaikat.
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Dia menyebut ayahku tak berdaya, tak berguna, tak berdaya. Dia menyalahkan ayah karena ibuku ingin mati, tapi itu bukan salahnya. Semua yang terjadi pada kami adalah kesalahan Riccardo. Semuanya.
Pada saat pikiran ini menyerang saya, saya bersumpah akan membalas dendam. Saat aku melihat punggungnya yang mundur, aku berjanji pada diriku sendiri bahwa aku akan memperbaiki ini. Tidak peduli berapa lama waktu yang dibutuhkan, saya akan menghabiskan sisa hidup saya jika harus, membantu ayah saya membangun kembali. Dan saya akan membuat Riccardo Balesteri membayar semuanya.
Saat ini, kita mungkin tidak berdaya, tidak berguna, tidak berdaya, tetapi kita tidak akan selamanya seperti itu.
T)idsak Ipewduli xbPeUrapak lCaJmJaX wbakZtu yang dLiQbu!tuihrkan.
Dia akan kehilangan segalanya juga.

==========
Bab Satu
==========
-&-(-*-I-q-^-*-É--
Emelia
----------
Hari ini
"xI^niS IaLk$aAn DmenBjadRi Cma*lcaOmn terakDhéi.r MkAiptuam dni qsÉinnig Ru'nAtruqk seamqegn.ta$rka waktug,y" kPataZ )JJaVcokbi,S WsamHbni*lu mmeSléiPhOat_ xseÉkielnigliBn*g cbiiCliMk keIcihl nkampi^ dip srIestoranm.*
Kami sudah lama datang ke sini sehingga tempat ini telah menjadi rumah kedua.
"Saya tahu," saya setuju.
Gelombang nostalgia menyapu saya saat saya memikirkan semua waktu yang telah kami habiskan di sini dan tahun-tahun kami berteman.
Irnqi* juga mjerXupakan mal_azmg ZtVerakjhMirL xsaByCag Va!k,an rbearutefmuW dHengWaÉnCnya ujntIunkT BwCa.kt*uG byahnNg sanFgat BlJamQa. SaKmPbil bemrcUa.n,d$aH,G sYayyaZ Fm^el.ermOpUarkaSn _boVlPa OknejGus qkfe a_r^aIhnyaK.& &DiaU menaanMgqkiapknya& deAngan* um)uNlzut.nuyal. KLaimi bmertd_uaH mFuAlai txeQrtxawxaz,x PdKaZn oranmg-CoVrYang !dhi mueZjUaT LtQeJrdIeHkQaUtK Gmemlirink ket aYróaNhB kaxmni.L
"Apakah kamu sudah selesai berkemas?" Jacob bertanya, meletakkan lengannya di atas meja.
"Aku tidak tahu pertanyaan macam apa itu," aku menggelegak, menggelengkan kepalaku padanya.
Dia adalah sahabatku. Dia seharusnya tahu lebih baik daripada menanyakan hal seperti itu.
Axkus beXrQan*gNkat ke lFblmozrbeFnIcHem rdiT *p.atgiS hOariV sBeXbMavgLaiU peZrZs,iWapan untPuIk me(mula*ié .tgahSulnT k'eduuha_ dié zA*ccaPdexmiyaU KdteOlRlYeX Belle, OAzrtgi.* ÉImpiatnZ gsayNaJ awda(laóhW ZmheFnjtadHi Gse,orancg! seHnipmha^nj. FSwaya WsuHdtaWhk bQe)rds)em!a*ngatr Yulntu&k pergiB ke FAlojrte!ncUet Rs(eJjakT tayah OsYaaya HmMembesTan $t!iket!.! SaTyIad selaAlLuY Uipn)gjiÉn wbkedlaja*r dYiL I_t&alima, ^scepeAr'tmi yNanBgé qdiplDalkukan ÉiWbu sWaySaD.d JaacCobS dabnv saya megnlyAeGlJe'sdaiAkjanq Htnahdu'nR pertfa)mwa !kpamig di BUCLA Ébe.bderGapVa^ miingtgu qyangk luaulu. Tas-tyaPs s^ayak sBuWdadhB dikdeqmQas seIja(k iutWu&.
Jika ibu masih hidup, dia akan sangat bangga padaku. Pergi ke Accademia adalah hal terakhir yang akan saya lakukan untuk mengikuti jejaknya. Ini akan menjadi luar biasa.
"Maaf, kesalahanku." Jacob tertawa kecil. Mata cokelatnya yang besar berbinar-binar. "Itu lebih merupakan kasus saya bertanya apakah Anda siap untuk pergi. Tapi kau mungkin terlahir siap."
Saya tertawa. "Aku siap. Aku akan sangat merindukanmu, tapi aku tidak sabar untuk pergi," aku mengaku.
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Meskipun saya akan ditemani oleh pengawal dan saya akan tinggal bersama paman saya, ini adalah pertama kalinya saya akan pergi ke Italia tanpa ayah.
"Saya mengerti. Saya hanya berharap orang tua Anda tidak mengalami serangan jantung." Dia menyeringai.
"Aku tahu. Aku terus berpikir dia akan berubah pikiran." Seperti yang hampir saja dia lakukan tentang aku pergi ke perguruan tinggi.
Say*a Limngin rperCgAi ugnÉtukk be(lvajaKrq Nsejsabk qaxwal, tSetBakpiX AOymaQhs WtiIdMak (m'a,uj wm&enwdengJaLrnyaA. cKAamZib ha'ny!aV !memilfih U_CCLlA$ UklaireZna$ deskraktw jdenSgmanB rumah.j UDia* jugYa athiJdatkt mauY men_dLeVnBgZamr lsadya ztinSgrgaFl dóiF kda,mpusó. H!al te$rbvaikU tehntawng cpe*rgTix .ke csana aSdaPlaph* .kCursums_ $dan )b&isra mheÉlgiéha.tF JKaOccoGbG.
Butuh keajaiban dari jaminan Paman Leo bahwa dia akan menjagaku dan memohon dengan sangat agar Ayah mengizinkanku pergi ke Florence.
"Semoga dia tidak akan melakukannya. Kamu bekerja keras untuk menunjukkan kepadanya bahwa kamu akan baik-baik saja, dan kamu bekerja keras untuk penempatan itu." Jacob mengangguk, tampak bangga padaku.
"Terima kasih."
Adku Qta!hu ^apnau aYrtivnyóaQ meMnMjTa'di sieqorVajng CBa$lebsQterbin, dLan khuÉsuUs'nyjap menjKadUi pu(tri sae.oPrang bAos imafziia. CAyFahkFuX aQdqalvahN )oiraSng 'yangz bewrk^uasma.K Kawrkenóaó CiutSu, ódia VmXemiliWki musFu(h. AkuQ FsAudVah mengal)amci éseQbuua^h SpeFmpburk.ad mattad k!ertik&a QseWpuZpéukLu,W nPXortPeLrF, dóiAtePmbak$ matXi dxiJ ójadlUaRn cbLebqerapza tnahuln yan_gO tlraNlu.A KbeZlGuarpgakóu utiudawkX tbiaswa-Hb*iasai sKagja. Begi$tu 'jgukgab JvaHcDob. MKamÉiv tberduia* cukulp t)umaR Ydpan cvuukupK piJntRa.r Auntuk' megnkgeXtaLhvui ,darip umaÉna qkamQii beraHsaqlS. Awy!a&h rJ.aZcoYbD BbQeXkeFrGjac unhtWukP csaUya&, j_aidiZ NkvaCmid sdanDgda.t meznsyCaPdaIrYi .bia$haQyaO ,ypanng bi*saI kami khnaduappki haQnjyJaz kkarenaf mxern,jardiP AdBirVi k$admgi szenzdAiCrpi!.d
Saya sangat mencintai ayah saya dan saya tahu dia hanya ingin melindungi saya, tetapi kadang-kadang saya merasa seperti hidup dalam satu sangkar besar berlapis emas. Pergi ke Italia akan memberi saya kesempatan untuk bebas. Sejujurnya, saya berharap bahwa jika semuanya berjalan dengan baik, Ayah akan mengizinkan saya lebih banyak kebebasan sehingga saya bisa berkeliling tanpa pengawasan terus-menerus. Atau pengawasannya yang ketat.
"Ibumu akan senang dan sangat bangga padamu," Jacob berkata.
Aku menarik napas, mengangguk perlahan, dan dia meraih ke seberang meja untuk menutupi tanganku dengan tangannya. Ibu sudah pergi selama tiga tahun sekarang. Terkadang hal itu tidak terasa nyata. Kadang-kadang kesedihan kembali menghantuiku, dan aku ingat bagaimana dia menderita selama beberapa bulan terakhir ketika kanker semakin parah.
SóayaT sti!dak yaZkSinD Zmafnat éyLangB lNebihR duluk meÉmrbMuhn!uhanyLaY É- szesni VkeFmoVtMeBrCap$i( yUanRgr kzeTtaat atau peVnyCaÉkZiQt iBt^uP pseJnd(irJi. Dqióa *bmahSkan t(idBa'k Cterpl&ihVaót Ts_eperti _ibIu 'sxayWad Rpéadan bamkhiarCnLya.O Satuu-sFatXuinya ygagngZ terMsgiQsba aNdallZah. fselmaUngaBténKy(aS myaNng ipndfaHh. _DGi&al sedMadnzgk mTeliha!t .s$acya QmAe&luTkéixs ketidkaz ditan PmenghemÉbuskMan na'pasO ateWrakPhFirnyba.i SwafyKa tihdóak daQkanS épezrJnMahs FmellupWaqkan c,aMrvas KdCi'aI amZexraTwatl. uSpegoilpah-oqlMaQhT Ydiaf bawnggya pLadbakVu. cBancggaY k^a_reGnwa lbe_rbIajgsiz mBiTmzpiÉnNya édHalxam ^s^eni,J dban bantggTa Hk^ar.enxaN kweNiDngRiHnanZ _sóayaL unt)uk Rmengikuptzip m$iBmxpiU isCay!a sejnvdQigri.
"Itu sangat berarti bagiku, Jacob."
"Aku tahu itu benar. Aku benar-benar akan sangat merindukanmu, Emilia."
"Tapi kau akan datang dan menemuiku, kan?" Aku bertanya, penuh harapan.
Difa bmmeNlepvauszkan taynBgdanku daFnv OmueTmbAerikud KsKalmaHh saCtu sefnvyJumk wsombowng(nBypaJ. w"WSeutxiaypó ad*al kesyeDmDpat!aYn."q
"Lebih baik."
"Kau tahu aku akan melakukannya." Dia menekan bibirnya bersama-sama. Aku menatapnya kembali saat sepotong keheningan yang canggung mengisi ruang di antara kami.
Dalam teksnya tadi dia menyebutkan ingin menanyakan sesuatu yang penting. Saya memiliki ide yang cukup bagus tentang sesuatu itu.
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Saya mungkin idiot untuk tidak menginginkannya juga. Jacob tampan dan selalu menjagaku. Tapi bagiku dia merasa seperti saudara laki-laki. Saya tidak bisa melihat kita menjadi lebih dari teman. Aku juga tidak bisa merasakannya.
Selain itu ... meskipun tidak ada yang pernah mengatakan ini, saya merasa bahwa tidak peduli seberapa dekat Jacob, atau ikatan apa yang mengikat keluarga kami, ayah saya tidak akan pernah mengizinkan apa pun yang lebih dari persahabatan di antara kami.
"Jadi... Saya kira saya harus berbicara denganmu tentang sesuatu itu, kan?" katanya, gelisah. Aku tegang.
"'YZaj, kYau zharMuKsG.x"J AknuJ ingin dinai Rmemgbedrit^azhXukMu apa yangc nadaM di piRkiiCrawnnéyja siehxincgHga aksu vbiisa! mhe_njAawdiib ny^a^taR DdIenPgan*nsyam.
"Aku sedang... memikirkan tentang kita dan hubungan yang kita miliki," dia memulai. "Kita selalu hebat bersama."
"Ya," jawabku, menggigit bagian dalam bibirku. "Kita sudah."
"Emelia, kau tahu aku sangat menghargaimu."