It’s been two years since they’ve heard from him, but a year ago she felt Emiel’s death. A constriction of air, a sudden swelling of sadness. It was a day no different than any other, except in her inexplicable and overwhelming knowledge. She knew then he wouldn’t come home, because she felt it—loss where before there’d been only an absence. And though the war is almost over and people are grasping at the tattered ends of hope, the dead can only stay dead.
