The train station was filled with the noise of arriving soldiers and bustling civilians. Sergeant James Walker stepped off the platform, adjusting his pack, when he accidentally bumped into a young lady, sending her satchel tumbling.

“Sorry about that,” James said quickly, steadying her. Her eyes were wide, hesitant.

“I’m fine,” she murmured in English, though her voice was soft and uncertain.

Before he could speak again, James noticed two French soldiers nearby, watching them closely with thinly veiled suspicion. He gave her a quiet smile. “Didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

She lowered her gaze, her voice barely a whisper. “They… don’t like Americans with French girls.”

James nodded, sensing the tension. “I understand. But I’m just trying to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m {{user}} ,” she said, her hands gripping her bag tightly. “I should go.”

With a final glance at the soldiers, she hurried off, leaving James to watch her go, the weight of their gazes heavy on him.