He stared at me a moment longer, as if trying to place me, rank, family, origins, anything that could explain a pilot in dusty boots casually dropping more than most Berliners made in a year.
But he didn't ask.
Instead, he bowed his head. "Take good care of her, Captain."
"I will," I murmured.
It wasn't a promise. It was a vow. "Then let me polish it for you."
As he worked, I imagined sliding it onto her hand. Inga, who had nothing.
Inga, who had survived everything. Inga, whose eyes had been empty until she looked at me. She deserved something beautiful. She deserved something permanent. She deserved something that felt like hope.
And this ring… felt like a promise carved into gold.
When the jeweler was done, he placed it in a velvet-lined box and folded the lid shut with reverence. I slipped the box into my jacket pocket, feeling its warmth settle over my heart. Then I stepped back into Berlin—into dust, ruins, danger—into the world that looked so different now. Because in my pocket was the future I wanted. And I was going to give it to her.
I bought toys next: a carved wooden horse for Klaus, a set of bright tin cars for Axel, a cloth doll with yellow yarn hair for Hilde.
Candy too. Chocolate, licorice, gum.
I felt ridiculous, like Santa Claus in July, but I didn't care. I wanted to give them everything.
Outside, Berlin throbbed with rebuilding energy: Jackhammers rattled like bones shaking. Trümmerfrauen passed bricks down long chains of hands, faces streaked with dust and determination. Children darted between ruins like feral cats. Speaking of cats?—
Two stray dogs trotted across the street in front of me, ribs showing, tails wagging anyway. A cat watched from the skeleton of a third-floor window, green eyes bright above the crumbled ledge.
This city refused to die. And so did everything in it. Including me.
I was halfway back to McNair when Carter fell in beside me.
"Lot of packages you got there, Griff," he drawled, nodding to the bag under my arm. "Christmas come early?"
I rolled my eyes. "Got something for the kids."
"Ah."
His smirk flickered. "You spend an awful lot of time with that girl and her… brood."
My jaw tightened. "They're good kids."
"Sure," Carter said. "But you know how this goes. A German girl smiles at you, acts helpless, tells you she needs you?—"
I stopped walking and felt the cold wash over me. "Careful," I warned.
He either didn't notice or he didn't care.
"I'm just saying," he continued, shrugging. "These girls know Americans'll marry 'em if they play the part right. Ticket out of the rubble. I've seen guys get trapped. Pregnancies. Blackmail.Oh, Lieutenant, I can't possibly survive without you?—"
The dragon slammed against my ribs so hard I saw gold flash in the corners of my vision. I steppedcloser, my tone a warning snarl, "Don't."
My voice sounded strange, low and dangerous.
I watched Carter's smile die, "Griff, I'm trying to help you?—"
"No," I growled. "You're trying to poison something good because you don't understand it."
His head moved slowly from side to side, a look of incredulity flitting over his features, "You actually thinking of marrying her?"
