Upon learning of the confirmed death of Captain Granton, Hastings had prodded Nick to write to Elissa. Nick refused. He wasn’t that good a writer, and he wouldn’t know how to write what he wanted to say. He didn’t even know if she would remember him. “All right,” Hastings told him finally, “but if we make it back to the States, you’d better go find her.” Arguments ensued. Ultimately, Hastings proposed the bet. “Look,” he said, “you know you want to do it. You might as well make some money off me.” Put that way, it sounded so logical.

Some months later, as their troop transport approached the Statue of Liberty, and survival suddenly seemed surprisingly imminent, Nick had tried to get out of the wager by arguing that when the bet was placed he had been on pain medication and not in his right mind. Hastings had turned a deaf ear to his pleas, showing him the signed statement, still on file in his leather book.

One thing about Hastings, though, he was a romantic at heart, and Nick didn’t think he would begrudge losing his money if things worked out with Elissa. One day at Camp Campbell when they went to the PX for cigarettes, he had even goaded Nick into buying a ring, which was now tucked safely in its velvet box in his shirt pocket.

He looked at his watch. He had eleven hours left to accomplish his mission.

When he glanced up, a scene taking place a car length away on the platform caught his eye. A Marine, missing his left leg and on crutches, had dismounted the train and was approaching a man and a woman. The woman lifted her hands and pressed her fingers to her lips. The man stood a step behind his wife, hands clasped behind his back, a battered old hat shadowing his face against the lights that shone down from the depot. Nick recognized them, with some astonishment, and watched as Jack and Mary Mickelson, seemingly mesmerized with agony and joy, never took their eyes off Elissa’s brother as he made his way toward them. So JJ had made it! Missing a leg, sure—but Nick knew it could be much worse. For a moment, he was thrilled.

But then he looked away from the scene. It wasn’t his moment to be a part of. What had he been thinking, coming here as though nothing had happened, no time had passed? And then to arrive at just the moment—

Embarrassed, he considered getting back on the train. But this train was continuing north. He would have to get a ticket for one going south.