“What – would you have told the child?” he managed to choke out. “When it got old enough to ask?”
She faced away from him, looking through the kitchen and sitting room doorways to focus on the blue-black sky. “That it’s father was lost in the war,” she said finally, her voice so soft he had to strain to hear it. “That he fought against demons every day of his life for us and our lives. That he did what had to be done and sacrificed his own happiness and well being so that we could have a better life.”