Careful not to disturb her patient, Greta picked up the uniform from the arm of the sofa and went to the kitchen. There she mended the holes and tried to wash it the best she could. It would never again be a proper uniform, but at least she could return him to his unit in a somewhat presentable state.
With Ezra’s help, she cleaned up the mess left behind from the firefight. She replaced the curtains with sheets, swept up the broken vase, and hammered a weathered board over the broken window. The armchair had suffered the indignity of a large rip in the fabric, but there was nothing she could do to fix it now.
Ezra and Greta both had the same thought. “Poor Liesel, this was her husband’s favorite chair.” She pointed to the stuffing falling onto the floor. “I won’t tell her if you won’t.”
