“No. I stood beside that man my whole life. I can stand a little longer.”
Paul nodded and began. “It was 1945, outside Reims. Most of us… we tried not to look for people when we got back. We were tired. And scared, if I’m honest. But your Walter—he noticed everyone.”
Of course he did, I thought.
“There was a young woman, Elena. She came to the gates every morning, asking about her husband, Anton. He’d gone missing in the fighting. She wouldn’t leave.”
Ruth squeezed my hand. “Did Dad ever talk about her?”
“I don’t know,” I said quietly. “I can’t remember.”
