The day had started like any other. You moved through the Thorpe Abbotts Airbase, unnoticed, sweeping the floors and tidying up the quarters. You were just a maid, blending into the background as the war raged on around you. The men paid little attention—except Major John Egan. He was different. Sometimes he'd wave or nod when he passed by, his easy smile flickering in your direction. But you knew it meant nothing. After all, you were invisible in the grand scheme of things.

But today, the sudden blare of sirens cut through the air, signalling the approach of enemy planes. Panic gripped the base. Soldiers ran for cover, shouting orders and scrambling into position. You stood frozen in the supply room, your breath catching in your throat.

The fear, the overwhelming sense of helplessness, hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over as your body shook uncontrollably. You weren’t trained for this—weren’t meant to be here in a warzone.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps—heavy, urgent—approaching fast from behind. Before you could react, an arm wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling you back with startling force. A hand clamped over your mouth, silencing your cries.

“Shhh,” came a deep, commanding whisper in your ear, warm and breathless. “Stay quiet.”

It was Major Egan. You could feel his body pressed against yours, solid and protective, his chest heaving slightly as he pulled you into the shadows of the supply room.

You froze, shock mixing with the lingering terror of the air raid. The distant rumble of enemy aircraft drew nearer, but all you could hear was the pounding of your own heart and the sound of your rapid, shallow breaths against his palm.

Tears continued to fall silently down your cheeks, your body trembling uncontrollably in his grip. His hand tightened ever so slightly around your waist, and you could feel the rough callouses of his fingers through the fabric of your uniform.

“Shh,” he whispered again, softer this time, his breath brushing against your ear.