Chapter 2
Adam sank down into a chair, grateful David Mitchelli had seen him on such short notice. Mitchelli was not what he would have expected in a famed photographer – a balding, middle-aged man with a slight beer belly. But there was something in his smile that suggested kindness.
"I won't be long," he assured the older man. "I only have one question."
He pulled the photo from his pocket, handing it to Mitchelli. Mitchelli sighed, smiling sadly at the girl in the picture, her captivating gaze forever immortalised.
"What's her name?" Adam asked, pen poised over his notebook.
But Mitchelli shook his head. "I couldn't tell you. The rebels were being marched away, divvied up into prison trains...a group of prisoners were being marched past, and this girl...those eyes just grabbed me and wouldn't let go. I raised my camera and took the picture on instinct. It was a once in lifetime shot."
He laughed, a little bitterly. "But I have no idea who she is. She was hustled into one of the trucks, driven away to one of the prison camps, I suppose. And I took my roll of film, got the pictures printed...and this one just seemed to strike a chord with people. That photo practically made my reputation…and I don't even know her name."
oooooooo
While it was rather disappointing that Blue Eyes's photographer didn't know her, Adam was not so easily discouraged. A few hours of research in the library, and he learned that those who lived in Rush Valley were required to register with the census when they came of age.
It was a gamble, but Blue Eyes looked to be in her late teens – there was a chance she'd turned eighteen and had to register before the Rush Valley Disaster.
Luckily, the census was public record, and could be accessed by anyone.
oooooooo
It took days.
Days to go through each and every record from a few years before the Rush Valley Disaster, analysing each and every photograph to try to find the same eyes as those in the photograph in his pocket. Adam worked through them with patience and many, many cups of coffee. He would arrive at the library as soon as it opened, and return home only when the librarian was locking up.
Finally, nearing the end of the 'R' category, he found her.
The same pale skin, the same long, straw-gold hair. The same eyes – with that elusive, light sapphire hue. Adam pulled the file out, copying down every piece of information into his notebook. Date of birth, her height, her weight, anything that might help him track her down.
Blue Eyes finally had a name.
She was Winry Rockbell.