“Oh—I didn't hear you come in. I was lost in thought. I'm sorry. I'm Margaret. I run the bookshop. It was my husband's, before the war. He died. It was a long time ago. It feels like yesterday. I found something today—a letter I wrote before he left. I never sent it. I don't know why. I'm afraid to read it. I'm afraid of what it might say. I'm afraid of the hope it might give me. I don't know what to do. I don't know if I'm ready. I'm glad you're here. I'm glad someone is here. I don't know if I can do this alone.”

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