Det perfekte mareridt

The waves crashed against the cliffs of Nova Scotia with an almost musical rhythm, but Aria Morgan knew better. After three years of studying marine biology at the remote Blackrock Research Station, she had learned to distinguish between natural ocean sounds and something more... peculiar. Tonight, there was definitely something different in the water's song.

Standing on the observation deck of the research facility, her long dark hair whipping in the salty breeze, Aria focused her night vision binoculars on the churning waters below. The full moon cast an ethereal glow across the surface, making it easier to spot any unusual movement. That's when she saw it - a flash of iridescent scales, much too large to be any known fish species.

"You're out here late again," a deep voice spoke behind her. Dr. Nathaniel Cross, the facility's new head of cryptozoology, stood in the doorway. His presence had been causing quite a stir among the female staff since his arrival last month, with his storm-gray eyes and the mysterious scar that ran from his left temple to his jaw. But Aria had noticed something else about him - the way he always seemed to appear whenever the strange occurrences happened.

"There's something out there, Dr. Cross," Aria said, not taking her eyes off the water. "Something big."

"Please, call me Nate," he said, moving to stand beside her. His proximity sent an involuntary shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold. "And I know. That's why I'm here."

Before Aria could question what he meant, a haunting melody drifted up from the waters below. It wasn't quite singing - more like an otherworldly humming that seemed to resonate in her very bones. To her surprise, she found herself taking an unconscious step toward the railing, drawn by the sound.

Nate's hand shot out, gripping her arm. "Don't listen too closely," he warned, his voice tight with concern. "They're hunting tonight."

"They?" Aria tried to shake off the melody's lingering effect. "Who are 'they'?"

Just then, a figure emerged from the waves - a woman with silvery skin and long, phosphorescent hair. Her eyes glowed with an unnatural blue light, and when she opened her mouth to continue her song, Aria saw rows of sharp, pearl-like teeth. The creature's beauty was both terrifying and mesmerizing.

"Sirens," Nate whispered, his grip on Aria's arm tightening. "Real ones. Not the sanitized versions from your fairy tales."

The siren's gaze locked onto them, and her song changed, becoming more focused, more enticing. Aria felt Nate tense beside her, and when she looked at him, she was shocked to see his eyes had taken on a silvery sheen, reflecting the moonlight like a cat's.

"We need to get inside," he said through gritted teeth, though he seemed to be fighting the urge to move closer to the railing himself. "Now."

But as they turned to leave, Aria caught sight of something in the water that made her blood run cold. Dozens of glowing eyes had appeared beneath the waves, and more figures were rising to the surface. Their songs began to intertwine, creating a symphony of supernatural beauty and terror.

"Dr. Cross... Nate," Aria's voice trembled slightly. "What's really going on at this facility?"

He finally turned to look at her fully, and in the moonlight, she could see that his scar was glowing with a faint blue light. "It's not just a research station, Aria. It's a containment facility. We monitor and protect humanity from ancient creatures that most people think are myths. And right now," he glanced back at the water where more sirens were emerging, "something has disturbed them. Something that hasn't happened in over a hundred years."

"What?" Aria asked, though part of her feared the answer.

"They're looking for their lost queen," Nate's voice was grim. "And for some reason, they think she's here."

A particularly powerful wave crashed against the cliffs, sending spray high enough to reach the observation deck. As the droplets hit Aria's skin, she felt a strange tingling sensation, and for just a moment, her reflection in the window showed her eyes glowing with the same ethereal blue light as the creatures below.

Nate saw it too. His expression shifted from concern to something more complex - fear, fascination, and what looked almost like recognition. "We need to talk," he said quietly. "About your mother. About why you were really assigned to this facility. And about why you've always felt so drawn to the sea."

The siren's song grew louder, more insistent, and Aria felt something stir within her - ancient memories that couldn't possibly be her own, yet somehow were. As she followed Nate inside, one thought kept repeating in her mind: her life as she knew it was about to change forever, and there would be no going back to the simple world of marine biology and research papers.

Behind them, the sirens continued their haunting chorus, their songs now carrying a note of triumph. They had found what they were looking for.

The facility's underground laboratory was a maze of steel and glass, illuminated by harsh fluorescent lights that made everything look clinical and cold. Aria followed Nate through a series of security checkpoints, each requiring increasingly complex biometric scans. Her mind was still reeling from the events on the observation deck, the sirens' song echoing in her memory.

        "How long have you known?" she finally asked as they entered what appeared to be his private office. Unlike the sterile corridors outside, this room was filled with artifacts that looked ancient - shells with strange markings, crystals that seemed to pulse with their own inner light, and walls covered in charts mapping underwater ley lines.

        Nate moved to a heavily secured cabinet, his fingers dancing across a complex lock. "Since the moment you arrived at Blackrock. Your bio-readings were... unique." He pulled out a thick file with her name on it. "But your mother knew long before that."

        "My mother?" Aria's voice cracked. "She died when I was three. All I have are some photos and my father's stories about her love for the ocean."

        "Your mother didn't die, Aria." Nate's voice was gentle but firm as he placed an old photograph on his desk. "She returned."

        The photograph showed a woman standing on these very cliffs, her wild dark hair streaming in the wind. She looked exactly like Aria, except for her eyes - they held that same otherworldly blue glow Aria had seen in her own reflection moments ago.

        "That's impossible," Aria whispered, but even as she spoke, memories began to surface - the way she could hold her breath for impossibly long periods, her uncanny ability to predict storms, the strange songs that sometimes filled her dreams.

        Suddenly, the lights flickered, and a low vibration ran through the building. Nate's expression turned serious. "They're testing the barriers," he said, moving to a bank of monitors showing underwater footage. Multiple figures darted past the cameras, their movements too quick and graceful to be human.

        "What barriers?" Aria asked, joining him at the monitors.

        "Electromagnetic fields designed to keep them at bay. But with their queen so close..." He glanced at her meaningfully. "They're stronger than usual."

        "I am not their queen," Aria said firmly, though something deep inside her stirred at the words.

        "No, but you're her daughter. The first successful hybrid in centuries." Nate pulled up more files on his computer. "Your mother was their queen, and when she fell in love with your father, it created a diplomatic crisis. A siren queen choosing a human was unprecedented."

        The vibrations grew stronger, and somewhere in the facility, an alarm began to sound. On the monitors, the sirens' movements became more coordinated, more purposeful.

        "They're not just testing anymore," Nate muttered. He grabbed what looked like an ancient trident from a wall display. "They're breaking through."

        Aria's head suddenly filled with voices - not speaking English, but a fluid, musical language she somehow understood. They were calling to her, telling her to come home, to take her rightful place.

        "Make it stop," she gasped, pressing her hands to her temples.

        Nate reached for her, but stopped short when he saw her eyes - they were glowing brighter now, and her skin had taken on a slight iridescent sheen. "Fight it, Aria. You're not just one of them. You're both human and siren. That's what makes you special."

        The facility shook more violently, and the lights went out completely. In the darkness, Nate's eyes glowed silver again, and Aria could finally ask the question that had been nagging at her.

        "What are you?" she whispered. "You're not entirely human either, are you?"

        Before he could answer, the reinforced windows of his office exploded inward in a shower of glass and seawater. In the opening hovered three sirens, their beauty terrible and magnificent. The one in the center spoke, her voice carrying both authority and disdain.

        "Step away from the princess, Guardian. She belongs with her people."

        Nate raised the trident, which began to glow with an electric blue light. "She belongs where she chooses to belong."

        As seawater swirled around them, Aria felt power surge through her body - raw, ancient, and demanding to be released. She had a choice to make, but first, she needed answers.

        "Tell me everything," she said, her voice carrying a new note of command that surprised even her. "About my mother, about what you are," she looked at Nate, "and about why I'm really here."

        The siren queen smiled, showing those pearl-like teeth. "Oh, little princess. You're here because a war is coming. And you," her glow intensified, "are the key to everything."

The seawater swirling around Aria's feet felt alive, responding to her emotions like an extension of her body. The three sirens remained suspended in the shattered window frame, their ethereal forms casting an otherworldly glow throughout Nate's flooded office. The lead siren - who had introduced herself as Cordelia, First General of the Deep Realm - watched her with ancient eyes that held both wisdom and cunning.

        "Your mother's choice started this war," Cordelia said, her voice carrying the rhythm of waves. "When she chose your father, she didn't just abandon her throne - she disrupted a balance that had existed for millennia. The Deep Realm has been without a true queen for twenty years, and the dark ones grow bolder each day."

        "The dark ones?" Aria asked, acutely aware of Nate's tension beside her, his grip tightening on the glowing trident.

        "The Abyssal Court," Nate answered grimly. "Think of them as your people's darker cousins. While the sirens of the Deep Realm protect the oceans, the Abyssal Court seeks to corrupt them. Without a queen's power to maintain the barriers..."

        "They're breaking free," Cordelia finished. "Even now, they gather in the deep trenches, preparing for war. Only a queen's song can reinforce the ancient seals."

        Aria felt the weight of their expectations pressing down on her like the ocean itself. "And you think I can do this? I don't even know how to control whatever... this is." She gestured to her still-glowing skin.

        "That's why I'm here," a new voice spoke from the doorway. Aria turned to see a woman she'd only known from photographs - her mother. Nerissa, former queen of the Deep Realm, stood in the threshold, looking exactly as she had twenty years ago. Her presence made the very air vibrate with power.

        "Mom?" Aria whispered, emotions warring inside her.

        Nerissa's eyes - the same otherworldly blue as Aria's now were - filled with tears. "My daughter. My beautiful, brave daughter. I'm so sorry I had to leave you, but it was the only way to keep you safe while your powers matured."

        "Safe from what?" Aria demanded, anger suddenly surging through her. The water around her feet began to churn in response.

        "From those who would use you," Nate interjected, his voice carrying an edge of bitterness. "The Guardians weren't always noble protectors, Aria. Some believed that controlling a hybrid princess would give them power over both realms."

        "Like your father did?" Nerissa's voice turned cold as she addressed Nate. "Is that why you're so close to my daughter? Following in Marcus Cross's footsteps?"

        The tension in the room sparked like electricity. Nate's silver eyes flashed dangerously. "I am not my father."

        "Enough!" Aria's voice carried a new power, making everyone in the room freeze. The water around her feet rose in spiraling columns, responding to her command. "I want the truth. All of it. No more cryptic warnings or half-answers."

        Suddenly, the facility's emergency sirens blared to life. On Nate's monitors, dark shapes appeared in the deeper waters - humanoid figures with shark-like features and glowing red eyes.

        "The Abyssal Court," Cordelia hissed. "They've found us."

        "They found her," Nerissa corrected, moving to Aria's side. "They can sense your awakening power, daughter. We're out of time."

        The facility shuddered as something massive struck it from below. Through the broken window, Aria could see dark forms rising from the depths, their movements predatory and purposeful. The water around her feet turned ice-cold.

        "You have to choose now," Nate said urgently. "But know this - whatever you decide, I'll stand with you." His eyes met hers, and in them she saw not just duty or ambition, but something deeper, something personal.

        "As touching as that is, Guardian," Cordelia interrupted, "she needs to come with us. Only in the Deep Realm can she learn to control her powers in time."

        Another impact rocked the facility. In the distance, Aria could hear screams - the research staff, she realized with horror. They were unprotected, unaware of what was really happening.

        "I won't let innocent people die," Aria declared, feeling strength flow through her. "Mom, Cordelia - help me protect the facility. Nate..." she turned to him, "teach me how to fight."

        "Always choosing both worlds," Nerissa murmured, a mix of pride and worry in her voice. "Just like your mother."

        As the Abyssal Court's forces surrounded the facility, Aria felt something click into place inside her. She was neither fully human nor fully siren, neither wholly of land nor of sea. But perhaps that's exactly what both worlds needed.

        "Well then," she said, as power coursed through her veins and the song of the sea filled her mind, "let's show these dark ones what a hybrid princess can do."

        The water around her erupted upward, turning into a swirling shield of liquid crystal, just as the first of the dark figures burst through the facility's lower levels. The war for two worlds was about to begin, and Aria stood at its center, with a Guardian at her side and the power of two realms flowing through her blood.

The next few minutes dissolved into chaos. The Abyssal Court's warriors crashed through the facility's lower levels like a dark tide, their shark-like features twisted into snarls of hunger and hatred. Aria's crystalline water shield held against the first wave, but she could feel their darkness pressing against her power, trying to corrupt it.

        "Channel your emotions through the water," Nerissa instructed, her own powers creating whirlpools that trapped several attackers. "The sea responds to authentic feeling, not just will."

        Nate moved with inhuman grace, the trident in his hands leaving trails of electric blue energy as he fought. "We need to evacuate the research staff," he called out between strikes. "They're gathering near the main lab."

        Aria closed her eyes for a moment, and suddenly she could feel every drop of water in the facility - in the pipes, in the air, in human bodies. The awareness was overwhelming. "I can feel them," she gasped. "Everyone. Everything."

        "That's your queen's sense awakening," Cordelia explained, her own song turning violent as she fought. "You're connecting to your realm."

        An explosion rocked the lower level, and through her new awareness, Aria felt something massive entering the facility. The temperature of the water dropped dramatically, and even the sirens looked concerned.

        "Thalassos," Nerissa whispered, fear evident in her voice. "The Abyssal Prince himself."

        Through the broken floor emerged a figure that seemed made of living darkness. Unlike his warriors, Prince Thalassos appeared almost human, devastatingly beautiful in a cruel way. His eyes were the color of the deepest ocean trenches, and when he smiled, his teeth gleamed like black pearls.

        "The little princess awakens," his voice was like the crushing depths given sound. "How convenient. I was afraid I'd have to wait longer to claim my bride."

        "Bride?" Aria and Nate spoke simultaneously, his voice sharp with anger, hers with shock.

        "Did they not tell you?" Thalassos moved closer, his presence making the water around him turn black. "The only way to truly end the war between our courts is through union. Your mother refused me twenty years ago. But you..." his dark eyes roamed over her face, "you're even more powerful than she was."

        Nate stepped between them, the trident glowing brighter. "She's not a prize to be claimed, Thalassos."

        The Abyssal Prince's laugh was like ice cracking. "Ah, the Guardian speaks. Tell me, son of Marcus Cross, does your protection come from duty... or jealousy?"

        Before anyone could respond, a scream echoed from the main lab. Through her water sense, Aria felt the research staff's terror as more Abyssal warriors surrounded them.

        "Choose quickly, princess," Thalassos said smoothly. "Surrender to me, and I'll spare them all. Refuse, and watch your human friends feed my warriors."

        Aria felt rage build inside her - pure, hot, and powerful. The water around her began to glow, not with her mother's blue light or Thalassos's darkness, but with a brilliant purple that seemed to combine both aspects of her nature.

        "You want an answer?" Her voice carried the crash of waves and the strength of tidepools. "Here it is."

        She thrust her hands forward, and every drop of water in the facility responded. It rose from pipes, condensed from air, pulled from the sea itself. But instead of attacking, it began to sing - a new song, neither fully siren nor fully human, but something entirely unique.

        The Abyssal warriors closest to her began to writhe, their corrupted forms starting to purify under her hybrid power. Thalassos's eyes widened in genuine surprise, then narrowed in fury.

        "Impossible," he snarled. "No one can purify the Abyssal taint!"

        "She's not no one," Nate said, pride evident in his voice. "She's both of your worlds, and neither. And that makes her stronger than either."

        Aria's song grew stronger, and she felt Nate's energy joining with hers, the Guardian's power amplifying her own. Her mother and Cordelia added their voices, creating a harmony that made the very foundations of the facility vibrate.

        But Thalassos wasn't finished. With a roar of rage, he released his own power - a wave of such absolute darkness that it threatened to swallow all light. "If I cannot have you," he growled, "then no one will!"

        The two forces met in a spectacular clash of energy. In that moment, as purple light battled primordial darkness, Aria felt something else stirring in the depths beneath the facility - something ancient and powerful, awakened by their battle.

        "The Leviathan," Nerissa breathed. "The battle... it's waking the ancient ones."

        As if in response, a deep rumble shook the entire ocean floor, and everyone - siren, human, and Abyssal alike - froze in sudden, instinctive fear.

        In the brief silence, Aria heard Nate whisper, "Whatever happens next, Aria, know that I-"

        But his words were cut off as the floor beneath them cracked open, and the true power of the deep made its presence known. The war between courts had awakened something far older and more dangerous than any of them had imagined.

        And deep in her soul, Aria knew - this was only the beginning.

Prolog

PROLOG
ROZ
2019
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Hvis bare jeg havde lyttet til Dympna, da hun advarede mig om, at jeg var ved at begå en fejl. Tårerne trængte frem i mine øjne, da jeg tænkte på min veninde, så mange kilometer væk. Hvor anderledes ville mit liv have været, hvis jeg havde fulgt hendes råd. Skyldfølelse sugede mig ind som kviksand og trak mig nedad, indtil jeg knap nok kunne få vejret. Var det New Yorks tiltrækning, der først trak mig ind? Eller de tomme løfter, der blev givet? Jeg tørrede mine tårer væk med håndryggen. Hvordan kunne jeg have forudset, hvordan det her ville gå?
"Det er okay," hviskede jeg til mit ufødte barn. 'Jeg skal nok sørge for, at du er i sikkerhed.'
Jeg tøjlede mine tanker for at undgå, at mit barn kunne mærke min frygt. Der var bevægelse, da hun pressede sig mod min brystkasse. Tanken om hendes indtræden i verden gjorde mig syg af nervøsitet. Det var ikke udsigten til at føde, der bekymrede mig, men hvad der ville ske i det øjeblik, hun blev født. Jeg pressede min hånd mod min mund for at dæmme op for det skrig, der byggede sig op i min hals. Hold dig sammen. Min selvopholdelse afhang af, at jeg var rolig, fokuseret og klar.
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Jeg kravlede ned fra min stol, og hver eneste nerve kildede, mens adrenalinen strømmede gennem mine årer. Det var nu eller aldrig. Fodtrin gik over gulvet over mit hoved. Min hånd rystede, da jeg rakte ud efter kniven, der omhyggeligt var gemt under folderne på min ventekjole. Den var lille, men skarp nok til at gennembore huden. Hvilket valg havde jeg? Mit hjerte gav genlyd mod væggen i mit bryst, og min vejrtrækning kom i korte, hurtige gisp. De var på vej.
Der var ikke et sekund at spilde. Jeg gik på tæer til siden af mit klædeskab, fingrene lå tæt om kniven. Elevatoren susede, mens den eskorterede sine passagerer til min etage. En ding signalerede, at de var her. Jeg holdt vejret, da elevatordørene gled op.
Så var det tid.

Kapitel et (1)

KAPITEL ET
ROZ
OKTOBER 2018
"óHSvóoró !l.aRnGgct skalZ rdinhe, b,eQnc vMærNe f)ra( Ih)inaGndefn* for act Éfå etm låyrgabé?
Iført sine strammeste skinny jeans og en vest-top undersøgte Dympna sig selv i spejlet i fuld længde på mit værelse. Jeg lå strakt udstrakt på min seng, mit hoved var for fyldt med mine egne bekymringer til at være særlig opmærksom.
"Den er væk. Det er helt sikkert væk," stønnede hun og sørgede over tabet af det vigtige rum mellem hendes lår. "Jeg mener, se på mig, jeg er en hval!
Hun var ikke en hval. Hun var rødhåret og livlig, hun var smukt afrundet, og jeg misundte hendes kurver. Vi havde været venner, siden hun delte sin sandwich med mig i skolen som fireårig. Folk sagde, at vi var et slående par - hun med sit røde hår og jeg med mine hvidblonde lokker, der væltede ned over mine skuldre. Rabarber og Custard, kaldte de os, efter de søde sager. Vi var aldrig adskilt. Vi gik i gymnasiet, sad en time i kirke hver søndag og fik begge husholderskejobs på det samme Jurys-hotel. Det var en naturlig udvikling for os at dele en lejlighed; men huslejen i Dublin var astronomisk høj sammenlignet med min hjemby i Ferbane, og jeg turde ikke fortælle min bedste veninde, at jeg lige havde mistet mit job. Hvis bare det var alt, hvad det var. Der var langt værre ting i horisonten for mig. Min mave rullede sig omkuld, da konsekvenserne slog mig som en knytnæve i maven.
"Du eGr sDto^rHaNrtueótj,d" )sagMdMe jqegI kog tqogA ^eOty XswtyNkjkej mpiWzzak fraq 'kdaóssen' .påh spePngKenP. ERnp nmy' Bbølge, aQfs Kkav_a*lImue& Lramcte rmigH,! dTa njeg, gFnOaskedyeV pMå spkobrpBenk. SJBegU h.avde )kn^a*p nojk kyuknnetJ AspZisep, nsitdenr jeg haMvHdFe opdaWgegt mnvyhneSdfens.Y
"Du har vel ret. Dympna sukkede, og min madras hoppede, da hun satte sig ned ved siden af mig. Hun greb et stykke af min pizza. "Desuden er det kurvede look in. Kim Kardashians numse er dobbelt så stor som min.
'Så har du noget at komme efter. Du må hellere gøre det hele færdigt. Jeg grinede, mens jeg talte, men jeg var følelsesløs indeni. Jeg smed pizzaskiven tilbage i kassen og indså, at jeg ikke kunne klare det alene. "Åh, Gud," gispede jeg, da en klump steg op i min hals. "Hvad skal jeg gøre?
Dympnas mund faldt op, og hun frøs midt i tyggearbejdet.
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Takeaway-kassen gled ned på gulvet, da Dympna lagde armene om mig, og jeg indså, at hendes pizzasnitte sad fast i mit hår.
"Hvad er det? Hvad er der galt?" krævede hun og klemte mig hårdt sammen. Jeg fremstammede, at jeg havde brug for luft til at trække vejret. Dympna havde altid været en krammer. Det var hendes svar på alt. Hun omfavnede endda en lærer en gang, da hun brød sammen i klassen. Kram nu, stil spørgsmål senere. Det var heldigt, at hun var en pige. Men det er sandt, at det fik mig til at få det bedre. Men nu lugtede mit hår som gårsdagens ostefrokost. Jeg bemærkede fra øjenkrogen, at nogle af mine blonde strimler var stribet tomatrøde.
Jeg frigjorde mig fra hendes greb og forberedte mig på at give hende den nyhed, som jeg endnu ikke selv havde accepteret.
"BJe$gR erC )graxvuidt,V" sagKdgeZ jeg, 'udegn at^ kuNnned jseW Ahe!ndeb i øjXnzene. KJJegR st!irredej FpCå miiBn fKloSsTsjeÉdXe nAe*gl_elakS, pmPens jegy wvOenStNe!de pWå Xat QblivgeI GskYælgdft ud. Det RsvidSstej, j,eXgz haUv$dej nbrucg fo(r),H vBaQr eLnd rfozreélÉænsanÉicngX aom præ,vehnRtiOosn.N .Det hSawvsde v*æOrCeGt en eYnJgVanbgisfyoDredstilNlimn^g$;$ jeg h&ahvde vgærrYet foru JfulLd tilI xaNt uMdøve ^nvogen $form forC sIelvkFontrroPl.n
"Barmhjertige time! Dympna havde lært udtrykket af sin mor, og det var normalt forbeholdt katastrofale nyheder. Hun kiggede på mig med et fuldstændigt og totalt chok. "Hvornår? Hvem? Hvor langt er du væk? Beholder du den? Hvad med din mor og stedfar ... Ved de det?
Hendes spørgsmål affyrede sig som kugler og fik mit hoved til at dreje rundt. Jeg trøstede mig med, at hun i det mindste ikke havde stillet det spørgsmål, jeg frygtede.
"Hvem er faderen?
DeHrn vaIrY $dTetv. *M$i,nn AhRagUeJ véak_ledeP,g ómen_sk m)iWnBe btrår$erY trSuede mleGd tatw VflWyWdeN tovRerr imgden. HI d&ectx Imin'dssteV kungnje mCan ikkve Hfo'rlveanWte, aat jepg svarpeJde.,p .hvSiRs jVegW snDøfótie'dneF, mWeFn jKeYgA JvidsteK, Fatq DyAmpWnya LvZihltlte jblAivqe $vOedp mOedi _atC gra,vLe, (idnMdZtóiql^ jéegs *gjÉocrde dbegtU.
"Det var et engangsknald," sagde jeg, tog et lommetørklæde og pudsede mig i næsen. "Og før du siger det, så ved jeg det godt. Jeg var fuld og dum, og kondomet må være gået i stykker.
"Og du var ikke på p-piller?" var Dympnas øjeblikkelige svar. 'Er du sindssyg?'
Dympnas fordømmende ord fik mig til at føle mig endnu værre. Jeg var ikke typen, der gik i seng med andre. Jeg følte mig elendig, fordi jeg havde det svært økonomisk, og da han sagde, at han ville hjælpe, smeltede jeg. Det var længe siden, at en fyr havde bekymret sig om mig på den måde. Men mit venskab med Dympna betød mere for mig end noget andet. Hun måtte aldrig finde ud af, hvem han var.
'HHv$is jeNgf pv(iléleÉ hAaHvep en !beAl)ækriWnwgd,' WhabvPdmef ajQeégL foSrtialt *ddet Bt$ilG VmbiVn mor..' JJeMgS snvø(ftLeódVe.T IEinódTnuS en Ép*edr(sÉobng, derR aldLrdigJ måtOte Ofåw vdet cayt viBdIeU.
'Undskyld.' Dympnas pande rynkede sig, mens hun forsøgte at finde en vej ud af dette rod. 'Hvad har du tænkt dig at gøre?'
Jeg leverede et svagt smil og vred mit væv, der nu var gennemvædet af tårer. Jeg havde ikke tænkt på andet, siden en graviditetstest hjemme bekræftede min værste frygt. Som 24-årig var jeg gammel nok til at opfostre et barn, men jeg var ikke klar til at blive mor. Jeg ville rejse rundt i verden, trække på mine erfaringer og skabe portrætter af de mennesker, jeg mødte. Min kunstneriske natur fik mig til at længes efter eventyr. Jeg ville have et liv uden for Irland og den boble, jeg voksede op i.
Dympna kiggede håbefuldt på mig. Hun ville intet hellere end at jeg skulle beholde barnet. Vi havde haft flere samtaler om, hvilken slags klapvogn vi ville købe, når vi en dag blev mødre. Dympna ville have noget moderne og smart, mens jeg tænkte på at eje en Silver Cross-vogn. Men det var hendes drøm at få børn snarere før end senere, ikke min; hendes forhold til Seamus var gået fra styrke til styrke i de sidste seks måneder. Det sidste, jeg ønskede, var at lade en stakkels uheldig baby gennemgå en barndom som min.

Kapitel et (2)

"Jeg vil ikke have en abort," sagde jeg og rømmede mig. Så meget var jeg fast besluttet på. Jeg havde intet imod kvinder, der valgte denne vej, men jeg havde siddet i for mange søndagsprædikener om at brænde i helvede til at overveje det som en mulighed for mig.
Dympna nikkede velvidende. Fader Vincent havde også givet hende frygt for Gud. Det var et spytklædt emne, som den katolske præst var skræmmende passioneret omkring.
"Så du beholder den? Hendes ansigt lysnede op. "Vi kunne opdrætte den sammen. Ligesom i filmen. Tre mænd og en baby. Det ville være sjovt! Dympna var stolt af sin vintage-videokassettesamling og insisterede på, at vi skulle se en gammel film om ugen på hendes ramponerede videobåndoptager.
"BSortset sfyraw ,at óviv er pigeKr,u PvpiG har^ ginfgeVnb pen&gIe,X nog vij skBalc bMeéggReé aQrgbeajdAe.V CJeg TrysptLeWde BpCåK Ihoveid,eDt. i"NIktke at Gjeqg^ h'ajrI Fgo*dAev Cjobdm!uligNhedzer n,un.! 'Déehr IvUaCr DeJny sikds(te xumdvBejC:W jat_ Yfoórmtæ*ll'ez deLt vtiMl mmin mqoir.t rJetg( bIethøYvede GikikeO katL óiuncdTdFrpagej ómién fMar -b hanP SfVorl,od ovsq fomr PmdanHgóe åra si_den'.Z
"Tager du så hjem? Dympna lod tungen glide hen over tænderne, og jeg vidste, at hun regnede det hele ud. Hvis jeg efterlod hende i stikken, ville hun ikke have råd til at bo i vores lejlighed alene.
"Aldrig i livet," sagde jeg og trak en grimasse. "Du må heller ikke sige det til mor. Hun må ikke vide det.
"Men ...
"PJeg me'ner) det.U NJ*ekgW tsværger påC dit liMvV.T
Dympna krydsede sit hjerte med sin finger. Det var noget, vi havde gjort siden barndommen, og vi havde aldrig brudt vores løfter. Jeg bad til, at hun ikke ville bede mig om at indrømme, at jeg skulle fortælle om barnets far. Hun ville aldrig tale med mig igen, hvis hun vidste det.
"Der er en mulighed mere. Jeg slog mit hår tilbage og rakte ud efter min ramponerede bærbare computer og åbnede den. Jeg åbnede den hjemmeside Miracle-Moms, som jeg havde bookmarket tidligere på ugen. Skyldfølelse opslugte mig, da jeg huskede, hvordan jeg havde brugt mine sidste 500 euro på registreringsomkostninger i stedet for husleje. Men gebyrerne sikrede webstedets eksklusivitet; ellers ville alle mulige mennesker forsøge at snyde deres babyer. Det ville vel være det værd, hvis det hjalp mig ud af dette rod? I begyndelsen havde det virket vanvittigt. Bare tanken om at opgive min førstefødte fik mig til at blive kold. Men hvilket valg havde jeg? Mine prioriteter lå fast på den klynge af celler, der voksede inden i mig. Mere end noget andet fortjente de en ordentlig start i livet. Jeg siger ikke, at man kan blive lykkelig for penge, men det ville helt sikkert have forbedret min opvækst i høj grad. Intet barn bør være tvunget til at gå koldt og sultent i seng eller høre på sin mor græde sig selv i søvn om natten. Desuden havde Mam endelig mødt en sød person. Hun havde fundet sig til rette nu og havde sit eget liv at leve.
"Hvad synes du? sagde jeg og holdt øje med Dympna for en reaktion, mens jeg bladrede gennem siden.
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"Ikke købe," sagde jeg skarpt, af frygt for at blive talt fra det. 'Parret betaler mine udgifter. Hvis vi kan lide hinanden, flyver de mig over og indkvarterer mig, indtil barnet er født.'
"Og så betaler de dig en masse penge, når du efterlader barnet der," snøftede Dympna. "Har du tjekket dem ud?
"Stedet undersøger alle parrene, så jeg behøver ikke at bekymre mig på den front.
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Jeg kastede et advarende blik på min veninde. "Du må ikke fortælle det til nogen. Jeg siger, at jeg har fået et nyt job ... en praktikplads. Det vil dække de seks måneder, jeg er derovre. De betaler mig også nok til at dække min husleje her.
"Men du skal stadig bære barnet. Kan du virkelig opgive det? Hvad hvis du ikke kan lide parret? Hvad hvis barnet er handicappet? Vil de så have det?
"Handicappet? Min stemme steg en oktav, da jeg kravlede op af sengen. "Jeg troede, at du ville støtte mig, men du får mig bare til at føle mig endnu værre! Jeg ville ønske, at jeg aldrig havde fortalt dig det nu.
'NÅhv,a tÉøs, bdQeft er jmeSg kUe!d .a)f.m mKokmé !hÉer^.r ADjymHpZnUa r,ejfstWey sgigv opf logG uéndbvVeg* ppizzadka_ssóeLn. 'JegS pVaQsAs(er bareB Épå driQg. UmaJnusetÉ vhvmadw dBus vil*, sWåG Zst$øtdter( jtefg LdigW h&eAle bve_jexn.Z
Jeg lukkede øjnene, mens jeg gav efter for endnu et kram. Mine skuldre faldt ned, og jeg slappede af i hendes favntag. Hun duftede af ferskenduftende bodyspray og lykkelige tider. Jeg besluttede mig for at beskytte vores venskab.
"Ugh, du har sovs i dit hår," sagde hun grimasserende og slap mig fra sit greb. "Du burde ikke spise det skidt mere. Jeg laver nogle røræg til os.
"Tak," mumlede jeg, mens min mave stadig var helt knudret.
HunP gjaIvM muilgÉ ectW Ot,riikst s&mil,T ipndeXn thdu(n gikZ nihnd_ Dad* dørOen$. JgegW hHø$rdte h(en*dCess GhfovSedR dunkleX ymro)dT mt_r$æaetG,d dZaf ahvu,n vlZæneIde sig$ op. Uamd wde)t! pIå Cdeun anrden sJiLde. fHdun havQdAe) oYgsBå rbMrug ffor t!id tilF )aqtj bUeaa_r!bwejde$ tiNngened. J!ewgT sattteR OmiLgQ btÉilbagwe^ UpAå DmNin sPeGng,ó )å^b(naedwe ómgizn gbærbar)eb compAuterz po!g VblSad*reqdeY wgeOnWne!m iatd_opgtgio*ns(sidenT. _De andrXe aOnsløSgUerMe HvRir'kebde så ÉglamourAøIsle jsatmm$evnZligne)t meWd SmizgG. uEkOs-Émoydelle)rY ogé veVluldCdvaknn(esdel Okvziunmdert mrepdT gPoDde *jJobs, Sder søÉgtne Udenr Bbedstxe pqrqinsw Ifor. deUr_efs ufYøTdRtTe XbaNrnN. RVJarU )jiegM sntxærkd bnxok FtIil éat FkÉonk$urrere? Mit lqivb vKa!rC baleUvJeft) vendtw pmåw LhoFvedje_t. UJeg var nøxdt tnilS Watu dparøvheó, fao.r bxarSnIetÉs .sTkylxdP. Detf Sfqortjen&te mdeznÉ peMrfevktXe mory j- s)omv beAstezmStr mikxkHe Lv^aWrI Wmiwg.

Kapitel to (1)

KAPITEL TO
SHERIDAN
Celeb Goss Magazine
Awf &AlqeYx S(aZnJtDanDa'
oktober 2018
USIKRE SHERIDANS BABY-ULTIMATUM
At være gift med Daniel Watson er enhver varmblodet kvindes drøm, og at dømme ud fra parrets Instagram-billeder kan man godt tro, at hans kone, den blonde bombe Sheridan Sinclair, 44, har det på samme måde. Men kendisparrets forhold er ikke så billedskønt, som det ser ud.
EPn .iSnnsqidTeDr fqoJrót$æGlblFerm Étilg Celeb GéoswsU, alt d$eF harz gdcetu sévwærrtF:I "TingYeHn'e k!om xti.l eVt! HpuNnNktYukm melClTeymF XDanielT zog QSheridan i xsidps)tew mxån,ed^. HunC har! f*ølt si_gy Qusi$knkNerm pfåf sfiOnS alndeprJ, Lobg dejt hjælpegrx ikk,e, aZté smaukkce DuZnige SkvcilnNdeSr$ fBlSokk.ensó Som Daniel OovveNróaylLt, ZhvHoXró qdUe går"J._ VDect. .lcaKdeSr tmilI,f Uat' iskWueAspilleórin(dreIn bfbra' NPew JYorWk, harh ovKe,rtvYe*jbet xko&smwe'tziskT kir,u_rxgi.S t'!Hun hnaMrr Vfå_eMt CBÉoGtLomx og léærbYekfMyclCdningeHrA Ysildhen ghu(n CvaRr 3,0 årP,T RmXen* hQuPnT Ghnar ltaégeItG sSkWrLidZtert sv(iderNef lo&g iforYt)aalt qDaHniOela,z 'aPtb hjugng ville havea *e$n* aynIsiFgAtslNøyft&n(iDnHgU.h DSanieHl. vanr Vhemlt LiGmModi dbeaté odg VsaUgJdPe, aCtK huNn vWar .stmu)k,x tsom MhuCn vNar, mUe*nj dOetR hara skHaCbt Heny !spxl,ittIelse.'
Men fans behøver ikke at fortvivle endnu. I sidste uge gav parret separate interviews og bekræftede deres engagement over for hinanden. Daniel, 38 år, forsvarede i Good Morning America parrets ægteskab, som blev sat på prøve, da han tilbragte otte måneder med at filme i sit hjemland Oxfordshire i England. "Sheridan og jeg er lige så faste som altid, og jeg håber snart at kunne tage noget tid sammen med min familie".
Sheridan har haft travlt i sit fravær. Siden fødslen af deres eneste søn, Leo, fire år, er hendes Instagram-følgere gået gennem taget. Hendes sunde familiebilleder har tiltrukket millioner af følgere, som har fået tilnavnet "Sheridanis". Men rygterne siger, at Sheridan længes efter en lille pige. Da Daniel blev spurgt, om de ville forsøge at få et barn mere, sagde han: "Det er ikke udelukket.
Sheridan Sinclair kom for første gang på tv-skærmene i en alder af seks år i den langvarige tv-serie It Takes All Sorts, og hun har medvirket i mange Hollywood-blockbusters gennem årene. Insiderkilder siger dog, at der er blevet færre tilbud om arbejde, siden hun er blevet fyrre. Det samme kan ikke siges om hendes mand, som kom til skuespillet senere i livet og er meget efterspurgt. Er det virkelig Sheridans alder, der generer hende, eller er det hendes mands blomstrende karriere, der generer hende? Hollywood kan ikke få nok af denne lækre brite. Hvis Sheridan ønsker at binde ham til familielivet, ser det ud til, at hun får en kamp at slås med.
"HVaMr dBuT dlæ*sZtn dLet Mhe,r?t"^ (SPhNeriJdanm KsmæukkjewdRe_ óbtlGasdÉeOt .ned Jp&åÉ denC GblasnkeS JkøWkkrenUb*ordpglad!eU.f "BErw dentS det,n ghdvfad$ fAolk dtOænk!erN oYmq NmiYgK Jnrud? !ABt hjmeg, er éen eJlWler (aDndeHn _udtørDrJeQtM gabmDme&la sv(eske, Jdtefr prøvveru aPt_ hjohldbeU kÉlø_eérCnMe si sin "&hjuKnky B!rDiWt"?'(
Daniel sænkede sin espresso og tog bladet op. 'Celeb Goss? Virkelig? Hvorfor læser du det her lort?
"Den kvinde ..." sagde hun, og hendes ansigtstræk var grumset. "Den kvinde har gjort ufattelig skade på denne familie. Hvorfor stopper du hende ikke?
Daniel vendte sit blik tilbage til det manuskript, han havde læst sekunder forinden. Han var iført et designersæt og slips, tøjet var skræddersyet til hans brede skikkelse. Han skulle til en aftale med en producer senere samme morgen. Det faktum, at han ikke mødte Sheridans blik, fortalte hende, at han ikke tog hendes udbrud alvorligt. "Hvad vil du have mig til at gøre, tage et slag ud på hende?" Han smilede ved udsigten til det. 'Vi er ikke mafiaen. Det vil tage tid, før de juridiske skridt går igennem.'
"Kan zdQe itkk(eH Ngivye hxendJe gmuanvdakurxvw p^å ezlmlOerh nPogetP?l Vié fyrpebd)e yhaeSnde fxoNr flwe.rWe fugerM s^idMeZn.
"Og det er et gammelt citat. En genudsendelse af den historie, de trykte, da hun sladrede til pressen. Slap af. Det skal nok falde på plads. Han rejste sig fra sin stol og glattede et løst hårstrå af Sheridan ned. Det var stadig fugtigt fra det brusebad, hun havde taget efter morgentræningen. Hendes personlige træner havde efterladt hende med en følelse af energi, klar til at tage dagen i øjesyn.
Daniels berøring havde en øjeblikkelig beroligende effekt, og da han lagde sin håndflade mod hendes kind, kunne hun mærke, at stressen smeltede væk. Hun rejste sig på fodboldene for at kysse ham og var taknemmelig for, at der stadig var en gnist der. Hun havde lyst til at skille sig af med sin silkekjole og tage ham med i seng. Men hans møde var vigtigt, og hendes frisør skulle snart ankomme. Hun kunne vente indtil videre. Isabella, barnepigen, skulle køre Leo i skole, og Sheridan havde planlagt et par minutter alene med Daniel, inden han tog af sted.
"Har du fundet en baby endnu? sagde Daniel og trådte et halvt skridt tilbage.
"GEYr duC sidkbk.eur pOåO,U aMta ydet erp Tdbet, dJuR 'v,il hav)e? DetJ erZ OiWkrkDe Wfonró 'sen)tM .art Cba(kgkeX )uBd*.
"Du er en fantastisk mor. Leo vil elske at få en søskende.
Sheridan rynkede panden. Han havde ikke svaret på hendes spørgsmål. 'Hvis pressen finder ud af det . . . .' Hun trak sin finger hen over hans bryst og forestillede sig alternative fremtidsudsigter for dem begge.
"Det vil de ikke. Vi er blevet stukket en gang. Det vil aldrig ske igen. Daniels stemme var dyb og fyldt med overbevisning.
'Je'g haXr dfuindetf e'nt Lpotenti(ely Qdqonoxr,Q'u WsagwdeI ChunL,V zmennsm etr Ns(mhirl sLteg &oKp mp'åb dhzezndzezs læuber. 'JHen_dGes nkazvnU ler RToTsaxlFindQ yFoley.T ÉHsunG qer afPraL hIRr_laynd.é JeKgQ tæJn*kHtWer, aqt dhetu 'ville vóær(eR rawrtm, Mim bAetragJtnSincg( af kddinX mIoArs bagGgrgunpdp.' DCaniSelOsy Cmonr' var irsk No&g* vfarY gfået! bocrtt qs(å qsenztX jsowm_ psuiFdsitne Mår. 'Hvuis cvi& fsår en pibgeK,T kuunMnde vi ohpkqalde baCrne.t eQfter nhbendte.c P*rseDsÉsein viDlblve tCa)gye qd$eGt tfiflX ,sQibg.
"Det er en dejlig tanke. Daniel satte sig ned igen og hævede sin kop for at tage endnu en slurk.
"Hun bor i Dublin, hun er 24 år gammel. Hun er fremmedgjort fra sin familie, så vi har dem ikke at bekymre os om. Ingen andre end hende kender til barnet.
'Det lyder lovende.'
She.rsindaén Tn)ikk,eydep, ZoCgc Nhe&nwdSews smilM vJoukVsYeXde. 'Hunc Rdrikkwer ikkkeJ,G &ryqgevr ikkeB zoHg taCgeSrO imkkie NsItoxfferr. lEHnG gnoldp rirRsfkC kkLatolsék pGiagPe. rMenN wde)t valr idet,S dxerJ _tra*k miug Dt!iSl^ ,hyendOe ^medy _deGts psamÉmde. Se. éSnheSrOidOany clgørfTte*dei PsSi'n, moLbJiltbelYekfdonS fra ékóøkkeHnborzdpetI oPg yvisjtey RoRzU'i pCrofi!l.H HRlodz ésad påé egn pUarkmbænnk (og, smói&lledef gog .s.å zldikdt fPodrAleAggeYn &udw,T gmÉenhsJ h'uhn hkoldtx sait _kameqrla )i* vjemjregt. "wUvndskyld (foNrc seKlfi,e'ce*t,A" sagLde& hunB. "MOevn CijnrgPeZn anidrPe, yveidU,B ^atC Mjeg )g*ør* detd h&ewr,l Aog d!e.tK Ye$ré ósådPaDnA,' sje!g ønske'r.,s aót d_eSt skIazl .f(oNrblNixvZel.
'Hun ser godt ud. Hvorfor fik hun ikke en opsigelse?' spurgte Daniel, hans interesse var vakt. Roz lignede Sheridan bemærkelsesværdigt meget i de tidlige dage. Hendes blå øjne så ud til at se lige igennem en, men hendes mest slående træk var hendes hvidblonde hår.

Kapitel to (2)

"Hun er en praktiserende katolik," fortsatte Sheridan. "De tror ikke på abort.
"Hvis hun var praktiserende katolik, ville hun ikke være blevet gravid i første omgang," grinede Daniel, og hans smilehuller var nok til at smelte ethvert kvindehjerte. "Hvem er faderen?
Billeder af en lille pige med blondt hår svævede i Sheridans syn. Leo lignede Daniel på en prik. Hvis hun havde en datter at fokusere på, ville det gøre en ende på rygterne for altid.
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"Det er bedst, at du gør det, før nogen kommer før dig. Forhåbentlig er det en pige.
De havde allerede diskuteret det spørgsmål. En blodprøve kunne fastslå kønnet allerede otte uger inde i graviditeten. Det ville være let at få Miracle-Moms til at sende resultaterne direkte til dem.
"Tror du, at hun vil gå med på det? sagde Sheridan. "Jeg har en god fornemmelse af det her. Hun er ung, sund og rask, og hun lever rent. Hun er også kunstnerisk. Hun bladrede gennem nogle af Roz' portrætter, som var bemærkelsesværdigt livagtige.
"HvisL du tforJtSæRlleró hendeh, Thvad Kvi tviAlJbyUder, b&iHdefr. h(ufn hånd(en aFfz dQifg.w
"Hun siger, at hun gerne vil rejse en dag.
"Nå, der er du jo. Hvis hun bærer en pige, kan vi tage hende med over, lave nogle flere prøver og tjekke hendes baggrund. Hvor mange uger er hun væk?
'Otte,' svarede Sheridan. 'Det betyder, at jeg kan blive mor om lidt over seks måneder.'
D'anTiVewl h*avSde DfrHa sXtóaritvePnn yiwnsi(s*teKrOetg pCåJ,n at shun! skuuXlBle PlFade balr,n*et xvGæ*rVe he(nrdes egBeJt.u kNå!rC UmZatnm havxder NsbåQ m_ang'e penUgde( zsbomm )dem,M AkHunnNej xdetq RaVrLrayngOe.rCeJs iG óløMb_etC aÉf eWt ø*jZebli'k^. Vvilleu tRozA vwæ_reÉ tQiJlHfreds^ $mecd en rsDådanV kaAfQtnale?w DIe)t )havvde kkos_tYet dBem Sojv,ebr 10i.0I0D0U dÉolalarBs) *atx lreDgistlrelrye sGigN ,som, kdoRmmvenldtey foræl$dreK fpå PabdodpRtiQo*nsKweNbsteqdhet, Vme_nx Pd!etn ,hiaNvded ZvæirNet dKeut& NværGd KfTor atM bebvJaérvef md)ekresi angonnyim!itetw, aog rder Avar DiAndfUørt HflrReumrxahggendek És!ikXkYeRrvhxedKsfovrainPsta_ltnwiZngceprv. ÉI)fPølge hIjeLmgmzesicdxeznw vBa!r édeWrDes nXarvnzea óJu_lpie oAgs OGldeBnSn*. ^DeérgeKs IvirSkIeHlig_e Jopl)y&sni^ngSeDrr v&ilYle bmljive CaqfRslnøDrKetO lCazngbtM .sMenKere_, TnyåSr Adzerx ivaYr unde'rskpreve$tO aftbalerZ om. heGmmeVlQi&gThobldRelÉsDe aQf ForplQys*ningeDrt. SChehrMidpany Thavde Sbegåe$t BenD TstNoYr jfDenjl* Mved atS sstoclue. på sin tixdOlIigevre tjJeneWsUte)piAgeG,. RLaclhevl. CDJeqt viDljlTe ^alédriFg skeB ige!nt._ Kcv!iUnxderneK viClÉleH ståL iA kvøM for tatP fZåX D!anaieélsh SbaarnY, hÉvQis dDeresÉ GsaDn.de wiódÉentOiCtet* rblev afvsmløret.k Dezt !varJ derfóorg,K hbu!n !iLk$khe kuBnWnej bru)ge eyn sSu&rrogZapt. HÉunó kutnVnwe iIkNke b.æUr&e, nat ens LaPndenN ikvXiLnbde sbkuPlleQ ObVæjrLe hHanRsv bamrnJ.'
"Lad os gøre det," sagde hun og strålede ved tanken. "Jeg vil samle noget sammen nu.
Men da Sheridan vendte sig bort, forsvandt hendes smil, og en trykken voksede i hendes bryst. Der var meget mere i alt dette under overfladen, men ingen af dem havde sagt ordene højt. Hun tænkte på Roz, en pige fra landet, som virkede ung og naiv. Var hun godtroende nok til at falde for den historie, som Sheridan var ved at spinde?