That night, Norah couldn't sleep despite exhaustion.
She walked through the house, stepping over sleeping families, checking on children, making sure everyone had blankets.
Some people were awake, too frightened to rest.
She sat with them.
Talking quietly about nothing important.
Just being present.
In the kitchen, she found Thomas cleaning his rifle for the third time.
"You should sleep," she said.
"Can't. Every time I close my eyes, I see tomorrow."
He set down the rifle.
"I keep thinking about Ru. About how he's four and he shouldn't have to hide in a cellar while men fight outside. About how if this goes wrong, he'll be an orphan."
"It won't go wrong."
"You can't know that."
"No. But I can choose to believe it anyway. Sometimes belief is all you've got."
Thomas looked at her properly.
"You're not scared at all, are you?"
"I'm terrified," Norah admitted. "But being scared doesn't mean you don't act. It just means you act anyway, despite the fear. That's all courage really is."
"Ma used to say stuff like that."
"She sounds like she was smart."
"She was."
Thomas's voice went quiet.
"I wish you could have met her. I think you two would have liked each other."
"I think so too."
They sat in comfortable silence for a while.
Then Thomas spoke again.
"Thank you for everything. For coming here. For not running when things got hard. For making Pa remember how to be human again. For..."
He stopped, composing himself.
"For being what we needed even when we didn't know we needed it."
Norah's throat tightened.
"You're welcome."
"If something happens to me tomorrow..."
"Don't."
"I need to say it."
Thomas met her eyes.
"If something happens, take care of them. The boys. Pa. Make sure they're okay."
"Nothing's going to happen to you."
"But if it does?"
"Then I'll take care of them," Norah promised. "But you're going to be fine. We're all going to be fine."
Thomas nodded.
Not quite believing.
But needing to pretend.
Dawn came too fast and too cold.
People moved to positions in near silence.
The only sounds were footsteps in snow and weapons being loaded.
Women and children descended into the root cellar, cramming into a space meant for vegetables, not humans.
Ru clung to Norah at the entrance.
"I don't want to go down there," he whispered.
"I know, honey. But you have to."
"What if you don't come back?"
Norah crouched down, holding his small face in her hands.
"I will come back. I promise."
"Ma promised she'd get better. She didn't."
The words hit like a punch.
Norah had no response that wouldn't be a lie.