Rumors began to find her.
A soldier who stood his ground when others ran. A man who refused orders that would cost civilian lives. A protector. A fool. A hero, depending on who was telling the story.
Each rumor sharpened her hope and dulled her reason.
In a border town half-buried in snow, an old woman took her hand and whispered, "If you're searching for him, you're already too late."
"What do you mean?" she demanded.
The woman only crossed herself and turned away.
That night, soldiers came for her. They said she was dangerous. That her questions unsettled people. That she inspired ideas.
She killed three of them before escaping into the dark.
When dawn came, she realized something terrifying:
She had not felt guilt.