“Clara,” he says quietly. “I think it’s time you told me about what happened in Italy.”

“What do you think she would say about my Match?" I ask him. "About what happened today?" He's quiet, and I wait. "I think she would ask you if you wondered.”

“You like me, Clara, he says. "I know you do.”

“Another of the hard things about being in a war, grandchildren, is that although there are times of quiet when the fighting has stopped, you know you will soon be fighting again. Those quiet times give you the chance to think about what has happened. Some of it you would rather not think about, as you remember the pain and the sorrow. You also have time to worry about what will happen when you go into battle again.”

“I screamed. You told me not to.” He rubs at the soot on one hand with his thumb, then stares at it. “The dirt,” he says, his voice strangely peaceful.“What about it?” she asks. “It’s dirty.”

“You know what Hans told me last week?" she says as I open the door of my fitting room. "He told me to write down a list of everything I wanted to say about that women-and then tear it up. He said I'd feel a sense of freedom.""Oh right," I say interestedly. "So what happened?" "I wrote it all down," says Laurel. "And then I mailed it to her!”