The spots before her eyes were clearing, and the nausea receding, though the tightness in her throat was still there along with a chronic, aching sadness that seemed to have settled deep in her chest. She put a hand over Alain’s for the last time.

“You knew him?” Jerome was watching her with reddened, tired eyes, unnaturally bright against the dark smudges of soot and mud that covered his face.

“Yes,” Estelle managed.

“Who was he?”

“Rachel’s brother.” My brother, she wanted to say. Because he was just that, in every way but blood. Though in Estelle’s experience, blood didn’t count for much when it came to family. “He has a wife. Hannah. And a three-year-old daughter. Aviva.”

“Goddammit.” Jerome dropped his head. “Goddammit,” he repeated.

“I should be the one to tell Rachel.”

“Yes,” he mumbled. “I’m so sorry, Allard.”

Estelle handed the canteen back to him. “Me too.”

Jerome stood and held out his hand, helping her to her feet. He had kind eyes, Estelle thought numbly as she took his hand. The color of melted caramel, steady and—

The ground in the field beyond Estelle’s ambulance suddenly erupted. She dove to the ground, soil and debris flung into the air like a geyser raining down on them and the patients. Something stung the skin near her temple but Estelle ignored it.

“Goddamn Boches,” Jerome was screaming in the direction of the front lines. “Goddamn stop for a goddamn minute so I can do my goddamn job!”

Estelle clambered back to her feet. Something warm trickled down the side of her face, and she brushed at it angrily with her sleeve.

Jerome turned and thrust an empty tin at her. “I need you to drive,” he said, hoarse from shouting. Bits of debris fell from his shoulders. “And bring back more bandages. We’re stripping corpses to use their goddamn uniforms for wraps. I can’t keep up.”

Estelle took the box and tossed it in the front of the ambulance. She returned to help load those who were still living into the back.

“Hurry back,” Jerome panted as he slammed the back shut. “Please.”

“Yes,” she said. “Don’t die on me in the meantime.”

“Likewise, Allard.”