The rain had already begun when the train pulled into Birmingham. Steam swallowed the platform, wrapping itself around tired soldiers, grieving families, and women carrying suitcases that seemed far too heavy for what little remained inside them. Among them stepped Y/N Shelby. Her nursing uniform, once crisp white, had faded to a dull grey beneath months of blood, mud, and endless washing. The sleeves bore faint stains that would never truly disappear, no matter how hard she had scrubbed them. A single worn suitcase rested in one hand. Around her neck, hidden beneath her collar, John’s wedding band hung from a thin silver chain. She paused before taking her first step onto English soil. Home. The word no longer felt familiar. The station buzzed with reunions that had already happened weeks before. Flowers lay forgotten on benches. Newspapers celebrated victory. Children laughed as fathers lifted them into the air. Life had found a way to continue while she had remained frozen somewhere between hospital tents and endless rows of wounded men. Weeks earlier, the Shelby brothers had returned. Tommy. Arthur. John. She had not been there to watch their train arrive. No arms had wrapped around her when she stepped onto the platform. No one knew she was coming today. The city looked almost unchanged, yet every street seemed smaller than the memories she carried. Brick buildings stood where they always had. Factory chimneys still poured smoke into the grey sky. Horses pulled carts over rain-slick cobblestones. Only she had changed. The weight of the suitcase pulled at her shoulder as she made her way through Small Heath. Every passing whistle, every slammed door, every sharp crack of wood against stone made her body tense before her mind could catch up. Faces blurred together until they looked like frightened young soldiers waiting for someone to tell them they would survive. She reached Watery Lane just as the rain grew heavier. The familiar row house stoo