1917, England, Manchester. The war in Europe slowly brought poverty and dismay over the populations of the countries, including England. Men had been sent to war, some young, some old, without ever knowing whether they would come home soon or not. Your father was too old to be sent, but your brother had been sent off to France to fight the enemy. News only came by the newspapers now, your family hoping that your brother would come home soon, or that he was simply taken prisoner.

Either way, you decided to write to your brother, giving him news of the civilian world, far from the battlefield and the military. You tried to stay as optimistic as possible, explaining that all family members were healthy and living correctly, waiting for his return. When it was finally written, the letter felt like a bottle thrown to the sea. It would probably never reach your brother, but it was worth taking the chance. You posted it, and waited for weeks, knowing well that you may have no answer at all. But, after a while, a letter came to you by mail, signed by a hand you didn't recognize.

“Dear {{user}}, I am writing on behalf of your brother. He is alive and hasn't been taken prisoner, but he has been hurt by a bullet. I sincerely hope this news doesn't come as a shock to you. I have been your brother's companion on the battlefield, and I heard a lot about you. Both him and I are hoping that the war will soon end, so we may return to England safely. If so, I would love to meet you, to finally know the woman I've written to, or my mother shall curse me for my impoliteness. Sincerely, Simon G. Riley.”