The morning sun rose weak and pale. Emily woke to the sound of clanging pots and shouting men. Her body ached from the hard ground. She rubbed her neck and stood, brushing dust from her jeans. Around her, the camp was alive again—men cooking, cleaning rifles, checking supplies. It looked like chaos, but there was rhythm in the noise.

Thomas waved her over. “We got two new wagons of wounded,” he said. “You’re up again, Miss Hart.”

She sighed but followed him. Inside the tent, she worked quickly, cleaning wounds, changing bandages. The soldiers called her “the quiet nurse,” though she wasn’t sure if it was respect or confusion. She used what she remembered from modern medicine—washing with boiled water, using pressure to stop bleeding, checking for infection. It wasn’t perfect, but it saved lives.

By midday, Nathan appeared at the tent entrance. His arm was bandaged, his expression unreadable. “The men say you worked through the night.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said.

He nodded. “You’re not like anyone I’ve met. You act like you’ve seen worse than this.”

“Maybe I have,” she said softly.

He stepped closer. “Thomas tells me you saved five men who would’ve died. That’s something to be proud of.”

She looked at the ground. “I did what I had to do.”

Nathan tilted his head. “That’s what most heroes say.”

“I’m not a hero,” she replied quickly.

“Then what are you?”

Emily hesitated. “Lost.”

For a moment neither spoke. Outside, the camp buzzed with noise. Nathan finally said, “There’s a small village a few miles north. We’ll move there tomorrow. The army wants to regroup. If you want to stay alive, you come with us.”

She nodded. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Later that evening, she walked near the river. The air smelled clean for once. She knelt to wash her hands and saw her reflection—muddy face, tired eyes, hair tangled. The woman in the water looked older, harder.

She thought about home again. Was time passing there? Did anyone notice she was gone? Could she ever go back? She pulled the brass key from her pocket. It was still warm. The hum returned for a second, faint but real. She felt hope flicker, small but alive.

Behind her, footsteps approached. She turned to see Nathan. “You shouldn’t wander alone,” he said.

“I needed air,” she answered.

He looked at the sky. “So did I.”

They stood in silence, listening to the water. The world around them was quiet for the first time since she had arrived. Nathan glanced at her hands, raw from work. “You could’ve walked away from all this,” he said.

“I couldn’t,” she replied. “Not while people were dying.”

He smiled faintly. “You’re either the bravest woman I’ve met or the most foolish.”

“Maybe both,” she said, and for the first time, she smiled back.

The peace was fragile, but it felt real. Somewhere deep down, she began to think that maybe, just maybe, she was here for a reason.