"We've been married for several days now, and nothing has been said about a honeymoon," said Dieter. He and Jo lay together in his snug double bed. His arms were around her, and her head rested on his shoulder. Her eyes were half-open slits of pleasure as his fingers trailed through her hair.

Never before had she felt more cherished, more adored.

"How can we have a honeymoon?" she asked. "The city is in ruins!"

"Werner told me some of the trains are running again," said Dieter. "I'll visit the railway station after breakfast and see if there's a scheduled trip to Tempelhof. I know how badly you want to see your mother and Renate again, and besides, you deserve a vacation, even if you can't have a real honeymoon."

"Oh, that would be wonderful!" Jo stretched luxuriously. Dieter pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head.

"If it's possible, I will make it happen."

Jo was in no hurry to get up and face the day, but hunger finally roused them both, and they went into the kitchen to see if there was anything to eat.

"I found just enough flour to make a few pancakes," Julia told them. "Paul and Elsa have already eaten. Elsa refused to eat at first, but Paul and I made her."

"You can have my share, Martina," Dieter told his new wife. "I'm not very hungry."

"You're just as hungry as me," Jo replied. "If you won't eat, then I won't, either."

Dieter smiled. "All right. You win." He blessed the meager meal, and they ate.

"Remember the Bible story about the five loaves and two fish?" Jo asked as they ate. "Wouldn't it be great if we could have a miracle like that right now!"

Dieter laughed and patted her hand. "Just be patient, darling. Things will eventually get better."

I know they will. She couldn't say the words out loud.

After breakfast, they made their way to the train station and were pleased to learn that, indeed, there was a round trip to Tempelhof available. They boarded the train with a handful of other thin, pale passengers. As they rode along, Jo looked out the window at more heartbreaking scenes of mass destruction. Why did I never learn about this in school? she wondered.

At the now-familiar train station in Tempelhof, she disembarked with her new husband. It was several blocks from the Weber home, but the sun was shining, and the Baumgartners didn't mind walking.

Although ecstatic to be with the man she loved, Jo couldn't help feeling a smidgen of guilt. What would Fritz think if he could see me now? she asked herself. I know he existed, at least for awhile - I remember it! And Adam and Daniel - whatever became of them?

All was still and quiet as they walked up the steps to the front door, and Jo wondered if Mrs. Weber was even home. Dieter rang the bell, and they waited. After a few minutes, Mrs. Weber appeared, throwing the door open.

"Martina!" she cried, pulling Jo close. Jo clung to the woman she'd come to think of as a second mother. After awhile, Mrs. Weber let her go to look into her eyes. "How have you been? Do you have enough to eat?"

"The Lord has provided for us," said Dieter, and then Mrs. Weber was hugging him as tightly as she'd held Jo.

"Please come inside," she said. "I have nothing but weak coffee to offer you."

"Please, save it for your own use," said Dieter. "It is enough to see that you are well."

"Come on in and have some ice water, then. I only wish I could have attended the wedding and brought you a gift, but rest assured, I will make up for it when times are better."

"Oh no, please, that won't be necessary," said Dieter.

"But it is necessary, and only the proper thing to do," Mrs. Weber insisted.

The couple stayed and visited with her for several hours, then walked down the street to Konrad and Renate's home. Renate greeted them just as enthusiastically as her mother had, and invited them inside to see Konrad and meet little Heinz.

"I'm glad to see you have returned from the war healthy and whole," Dieter said as he shook his new brother-in-law's hand.

"I'm glad to have survived as well, but my heart aches for my comrades who were not as fortunate," Konrad replied.

As Jo held Renate's son, she was filled with the same unfamiliar ache she'd experienced when she'd held little Dieter Bohmke for the first time. She wondered whether she and Dieter would have children. If so, would they be her children, or Martina's?

The question was too bizarre to contemplate.

She and Dieter stayed and visited until twilight, and then Konrad drove them to the train station. In the train on the way home, Jo rested her head on Dieter's shoulder. This is my life now, she told herself. My name is Martina Baumgartner, not Jo March. Dieter is my husband, and any children we have will be mine and his.

But what about my family back in Concord? She cried, just a little.

"What's wrong?" She heard Dieter's voice and looked up into his anxious blue eyes.

"Nothing. I'm just tired, that's all."

"We'll soon be home, darling, and then you can have a nice long rest."

I'd better not think about it anymore. She rested her head on his shoulder and dozed. When they reached their destination, he had to shake her awake.

Once they were inside, Julia asked how the Webers were faring.

"They seem to be well enough, considering," Dieter told her. "Konrad and Renate have a lovely new son, but we stayed and visited for many hours, and Martina is very tired. I must get her right to bed."

"Of course, darling."

Later, Jo lay awake in her husband's arms, listening to his gentle snoring. It was the price I had to pay to save him, she told herself. In the act of helping him escape, I lost who I originally was, my Jo-ness, for good. I'll always be Martina from now on. I'll never live in the twenty-first century again, never again see those I loved there.

She started to sob, softly. Dieter didn't awaken.