A chill threaded through Grace’s veins that had nothing to do with the bite of icy wind. They were never informed of an air raid being sounded. It was all too easy to imagine what a bomb would have done to such a large roomful of people. Everyone dancing, carousing, oblivious. A shudder rippled down her back.

The realization was immediately replaced by the heavy press of guilt.

While residents were outside being bombed, losing their homes and their lives as volunteers worked all night to save who and what they could, Grace had been dancing.

A pain lashed through her. She could have been out here, helping. She could have been able to offer first aid, comfort, advice to the rescue crews on who might be where and in need. She could have manned a stirrup pump to help with dousing the flames. She could have—

Viv tucked Grace’s arm in the crook of hers. “Come, let’s go to the station.”

“I could have helped.” Grace let herself be led away, barely acknowledging the attendant’s warning to mind their step.

“You could have been killed,” Viv said, sharper than Grace had ever heard her speak.

In truth, they all could have been killed. Thick walls and sandbags didn’t do much. Even underground. She’d heard of too many shelters whose occupants thought themselves safe, only to be bombed or buried in rubble.

And the hotel had never even told them of the air raid.

Their feet crunched over broken glass, and heat wafted toward them from a pile of shattered bricks with flames still burning somewhere within.

“You walk outside while this is going on?” Viv asked quietly.

“Of course,” Grace frowned. “I should have been out here last night.”

“No.” Viv stopped in front of Grace and met her eyes. “You are working yourself ragged. You needed the distraction, at least for one evening, and I’m glad you took it.” She looked around in horrified awe before turning her attention back to Grace. “Good God, the things you must see.”

Then she threw her arms around Grace and squeezed her in a hug that smelled like the old Viv, all sweet floral perfume that overwhelmed the acrid odor in the air. “You’re so brave,” Viv whispered. “So very brave.”

Brave.

The word took Grace aback. She wasn’t brave. She was simply doing what any ARP warden would, what she’d been trained to do. Of all the words Grace might describe herself with, the last would be brave.

When Viv straightened, she wiped the underside of her eyes and looked up, fluttering her lashes with a self-deprecating laugh. “I’ll ruin my makeup going on like this. Come, let’s get home so you can have a proper rest before this afternoon.”