Cate sighed, still able to feel his lips on hers, still able to smell the smoke from the train and recall the beat of her heart as she’d wondered if she would ever see Charlie again. She might have accepted his words that day, but she’d never for a moment thought he’d leave her, that one day she’d have to think about what he’d said again. There had only been a few days between him leaving and her completing her nursing training, and the months since then had been a blur. Except for the day when time had stood still, when she’d been summoned to the matron’s office soon after they’d arrived in Dunkirk. That day, every second had lasted an hour; every painful moment had cut so deep she’d wondered how she would ever survive it.

But war hardened a person, on the outside, anyway. War had taken so much from her; it had demanded her body and soul every single day, and it had broken her heart a hundred times over. Charlie had only been the beginning of her suffering; there had been so many losses, so much pain, so much trauma every single day since.

“Matron wants a word with you, in private.”

Cate looked up from the bandage she was securing around a patient’s forearm. “In private?” Had she done something wrong? Matron was so hard on all the girls, always insisting they adhere to the highest of standards, and Cate had thought she was doing so well.

“Would you mind finishing up for me here then?” Cate asked.

The other nurse nodded and Cate waited for her to take over before quickly going to wash her hands. She smoothed her hair down too, checking her pins were in place and her hat was positioned properly on her head. The last thing she needed was to be scolded for her appearance as well as her work.

Cate took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, hurrying to the matron’s quarters.

“You asked to see me?” she called out, ducking her head in the open doorway.

“Yes, my dear, come in.”

My dear? Matron never softened her words with kind phrases. Cate swallowed and walked to her desk.

“I’m sorry if I’ve—”

“Cate, you haven’t done a thing. Please. Sit.” Matron gestured at the spare seat and Cate sat, hands folded in her lap.

It was then she saw the piece of paper, folded in half, and Matron gently nudged it across the desk toward her.

“Cate, I’m so sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you’ve just received a telegram. It’s terrible news about your fiancé.”

A small cry escaped her lips as she reached for it, hands trembling. Her fingers fumbled as she opened it, eyes scanning the page frantically, and then reading it over and over again. It was from Charlie’s mother.