Where would we go? Where in the world would a love such as ours be accepted? Where would we not be ostracized or worse? Here, we are somewhat insulated by the unique circumstances. I fear the same will not be true in the world at large, and I don’t know what to do to protect us—to protect her.

Mary continues to sink deeper and deeper into despair. Her insecurity about my love for her and my intentions are fueled by my inability to spend the necessary time to allay her fears.

I feel trapped between love and duty. While it may sound overly dramatic, I believe the fate of the world hangs in the balance based on the work we are doing here. I must stay focused, with a steady hand on the wheel, and pray that when all this is over, I will be able to speak freely and that Mary will understand and forgive me.

It is getting late, dear diary, in so many ways, and I must at least try to sleep, for the days and nights ahead are bound to be long.

Ever faithfully yours, dearest diary.

Nora

She closed the journal, shut off the light, and tiptoed back into the bedroom. For long moments, she stood there gazing down at Mary. In sleep, she appeared so young and innocent. Tears formed on Nora’s lashes, and she brushed them away. She returned the diary to its hiding place, changed into her nightgown, and slipped under the covers.

Unconsciously, Mary reached for her and snuggled against her. Nora drank in the scent of her skin, her shampoo, and her perfume. “I love you, sweet Mary, and I always will. Sweet dreams, my love.”

“I love you too,” Mary murmured in return.

Nora smiled a bittersweet smile, closed her eyes, and prayed for her dreams to take her somewhere where she and Mary could live carefree and in love. Within seconds, she was asleep.

Nora hurried down the hall toward the conference room. She was in such a rush that she nearly ran over Jane, who had just emerged from a side office.

Jane squeezed her hand and winked. When Nora cocked her head in inquiry, Jane simply smiled.

Nora’s stomach flipped. Did that mean what I think it meant? She knew Jane couldn’t, and wouldn’t, tell her. But the fact of her presence, the sheaf of papers she carried, and the broad grin gave Nora goosebumps.

They arrived in the conference room to find General Groves, Colonel Nichols, and the middle-of-the-night group Nora secretly had dubbed The Select Few, already there.

“Close the door, please,” General Groves instructed.

Jane closed the door behind them. She walked to the front of the room and presented the general with the sheaf of papers.