Sasha looked from Susannah to Anne. She felt a surge of gratitude in her new friends for being there at all. She took a deep breath in and then told them what had happened. She went quickly, in the hope that her clipped recitation of events would make it all seem less devastating.

“Oh Sasha,” Anne said, “I’m so sorry. This has to be some sort of mistake.”

“Helen didn’t seem to think so,” Sasha said. “I don’t think Alexander lied about the Sons of Jacob being powerful here.”

“It’s chaos right now, Sash’,” Susannah assured her, “maybe a few guys can get away with acting like this now, during the war. But once it’s over Pastor Mike won’t let them treat us like this.”

Anne nodded.

“Kyle gets rotated back from the front tomorrow,” she said. “I’ll ask him about the Sons of Jacob. Maybe he’ll know something we can do.”

Sasha knew from the look she’d seen in Helen’s eyes that further protest against the Jacobians would be useless. And besides, she thought, the most painful thing was Alexander’s dishonesty. He’s already hurt me as much as he can. She tried to convince herself of that, just as she tried to enjoy the company of her friends without dwelling on the face of the boy who’d betrayed her. She was less than successful.

Bedtime came. The girls washed up, said their goodnights, and snuggled up in their beds. As usual, Sasha’s mind stayed awake and active. She wasn’t having second thoughts exactly—of course not, never! But so much about today felt wrong. Alexander and the Sons of Jacob, of course, but also that the brave men she’d worked on that afternoon would never walk or see or talk again. This is war, she reminded herself, a great deal of it is going to seem wrong.

The next morning and afternoon went by in a haze of industrious activity; breakfast and bandages and preparing medications for doctors and nurses. Sasha lost herself in the work and, for a few hours, wasn’t happy or sad.

Her shift at the hospital ended at five. She took her nightly jeep ride back to the House of Miriam, but rather than going right inside, she decided to take a walk around the downtown strip. She had a few ration scrips in her pocket, enough that she could’ve bought coffee or even a meal in the one functioning restaurant still in town. But she wasn’t hungry; she just wanted to walk.