Word Count: 24,008
Summary of Events:
Keeleigh opened the sealed Christmas cards and discovered some of them were from a different woman who appeared to have had a daughter who died as a young child; she told her brother about it, and was flabbergasted when he didn't seem to believe her. Olga went to deliver bandages to the church and overheard an announcement that Britain and France had declared war on Germany, which bolstered everyone's spirits. Emil was helping load up debris to be used for constructing barriers on the edges of Warsaw when he spotted his youngest brother wandering the streets alone and brought him home only to learn that Olga was out looking for him; Emil then set out to find Olga as a bombing raid began, and ended up getting thrown into a lamppost by a nearby bomb-blast . . .
Excerpt of the Day:
"He staggered back toward where the bomb had exploded, feeling a wretched revulsion in his stomach. He hoped Olga hadn't been right where the bomb had landed. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if she had been.
As he got closer he tried to shout her name, but he felt like something was lodged in his throat that he couldn't get his voice past, so he went on in silence, desperately searching for Olga.
"Emil!" a sudden, desperate scream from behind him made him whirl around so quickly that he fell down.
Hardly a moment later Olga, looking dusty and bedraggled, with eyes red-rimmed from tears whose trails formed muddy lines down her face, was by his side.
"Emil, are you alright?" she asked.
"Now that I've found you, yes," Emil replied.
"I've lost Benedykt!" Olga cried. "You have to help me find him!"
"I found him," Emil replied. "He's safe at home with Mama. That's how I found out you were gone, so I came to find you."
Olga looked relieved, but tortured. "I didn't mean to lose him!"
"I shouldn't think you would," Emil replied, slowly sitting up again. "You may be selfish at times, but you wouldn't wholly abdicate a responsibility like that."
"They're not going to believe me," Olga sobbed.
"Nonsense," Emil said, swiping some of the mud off her cheeks with his thumbs. "I'll vouch for you, and I'm sure Mama wouldn't be inclined to think as ill of you as Kornelia does."
He struggled to his feet again. Olga scrambled up beside him.
"You're not alright," Olga said.
"I'm just a little shaky because the bomb-blast threw me into a lamppost," Emil replied. "I'll be fine once I have a moment to sit down, but we need to get home before the bombers circle around again."
"You're bleeding Emil," Olga said.
"No I'm not," Emil replied.
"Yes you are," Olga insisted.
Emil looked down, thinking she was just referring to his pant leg's wetness, but when he looked down he saw that she was right; blood had soaked his shirt. As soon as he looked at it he felt the searing pain tear through his side and he dropped to his knees."
"I need to get you help," Olga said.
"Help me up," Emil said.
"No, you need to stay here," Olga said. "I can't carry you."
"I'll lean on you," Emil said. "You should be strong enough to help me stay upright."
Olga looked at him fearfully, but eventually helped him to his feet.
He draped his arm around her shoulder as his legs threatened to buckle underneath him. Now that he'd realised he was wounded he felt much weaker than he had before, but he wasn't going to let that stop him in any way."
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