Dangerous Days

A saboteur’s whisper coils through the smokestacks of the Spencer Steel Works, where molten iron sings the anthem of a world teetering on the lip of war; Rudolph Klein, velvet-gloved Teutonic provocateur, stalks the alleys of conscience, brandishing fratricidal blackmail against Herman, the plant’s taciturn metallurgist whose veins pulse with the same ore he refines. Across the manicured lawns of privilege, Graham Spencer, heir to a fortune forged in shell-casings, burns to trade dinner jackets for khaki, yet his mother Natalie—a porcelain predator in Chanel lace—freezes his resolve with a single glacial stare. Into this crucible Rudolph drips venomous rumor: that Graham’s eyes have been feasting on Anna, Herman’s cloistered daughter, an accusation potent enough to transmute filial loyalty into explosive treachery. On the night the zeppelins finally bloom like malignant moons, Herman lights the long fuse; Anna, eavesdropping beneath iron catwalks, races through sulfurous haze to warn the family whose name she has been taught to loathe, only to be immolated by the very blast she sought to prevent. Her charred silhouette becomes the Stations of the Cross for Graham, who shoulders a rifle as though it were her coffin-lid, while Natalie—her maternal masquerade incinerated—unmoors herself from a marriage grown suddenly weightless, allowing the widowed Audrey Valentine, still reeking of her own son’s battlefield blood, to step into the vacated light.