From Sand and Ash

by Amy Harmon

“I don’t know.” Angelo’s voice broke, and he put his hands over his face the way he did when he prayed, but there was no solace in his hands. No solace in prayer. Not anymore. “The Americans are coming. We just needed to hold on a little longer. I just needed to keep her safe a little longer. I’ve been such a fool. I should have married her in 1939. I could have taken her away, back to America, like her father suggested.” “We all had opportunities to escape. We all had those inner voices that said, ‘Flee. Leave.’ Those things have haunted me too, Angelo,” Mario said, rubbing hard at the back of his neck, fighting the old regrets, the guilt that had kept him up many nights.

GAHHHHHHHH. SHOULD HAVE ESCAPED TO AMERICA LIKE HER FATHER SUGGESTED.