Prologue

An alarming crack came from above as the heavens seemed to open up and begin raining its sorrow onto the people. Howling, the wind mercilessly pushed leaves along the cobblestone path under her feet, as if fleeing the horrible things on the horizon.

The man sank into the shadows and waited. There was a chill that sent a shiver down his spine, perhaps only the weather, or an ominous feeling of this night. Shifting in his hiding spot, the man could hear the sound of hurried heels, perhaps a rushing soldier? A citizen trying to beat curfew? An instant later, the clicks grew louder, but slower. The individual was in familiar territory, but still wary of their surroundings.

Suddenly, a slender figure appeared under a street lamp.

Under shallow breaths the woman stood deathly still, like a doe straining to hear the footsteps of an approaching hunter. Abruptly, the woman was snatched into the darkness of the alley by the man.

Blinded by terror, the woman tried to scream, but she felt a strong familiar hand upon her arm and stifled her fear. Feeling a bit faint from all of the excitement, she sat on the concrete at the man’s feet.

“Charles,” she started, in a whisper “you scared me half to death!”

Pulling the woman to a standing level he embraced her. “I know my sweet, but I had to be hidden for fear of discovery.” He kissed her pale, worried brow. “There is no need to fret Emma, we are together now.”

Off in the distance, a large clock began singing a sweet melody, bringing false enthusiasm to the listeners. The clock chimed mournfully, at the end, signaling that the time was seven o’clock. Curfew was now in effect.

The couple engaged in a long, but simple kiss and gazed into each others eyes for a while before parting themselves and leaning with their backs against a large, crumbling stone wall.

Their chosen meeting place was once a great palace in earlier years. Now, having being invaded, blown up, and vandalized, it was simply their halfway point between each other. Though still in the city limits, this area was significantly less patrolled by foot soldiers than others.

Fiddling with her cigarette case, Emma sighed. “You’ve heard the rumors, I know.” She began fingering the tie-belt on her trench coat. “It makes me nervous, mostly because we don’t know when it will happen.” She was visibly shaking, but doing her best not to draw attention to it.

“You never did like surprises.” Charles mumbled. He pulled out his small pocket knife and began fiddling with it, a nervous habit he could never break. “I’m sure it is only propaganda, being used to scare us into submission. I don’t believe a word of it!” He began absentmindedly digging into the fortification.

After a shared moment of silence, Emma scooted closer to Charles. “What are you doing?” She leaned in to get a closer look at the absent minded digging that was starting to take an actual shape.

“This is our spot,” He continued scraping “away from all of this madness and curfews, away from all the talk of war, and death.” He paused, replacing the knife to his pocket “Our place to just, be.”

The image was simple, but brought tears to her eyes. Like teenagers in love, they sealed their adoration in a crudely drawn heart with their initials for the entire world to look upon.

Shakily, Charles fell to his knees on the concrete. “I, um…”

“Are you alright?!” Emma stooped, feeling his brow.

“M-Marry me.” The request was simple, her silence was long. It felt like days before either of them spoke again. “I’ve um, It’s not much, all I could afford,” talking sporadically Charles dug into his coat pocket and presented a simple brass ring. “When all of this is over, I want to make you Mrs. Charles Dobrin.”

Trembling, she searched for words. “Silly, man,” overcome by the simple but loving gesture, they fell into an awkward kiss  “Yes.” She whispered.

The clock rang out once more, startling them from their embrace. Two hours had passed now and their families would start to worry. After a final kiss, the couple reluctantly unlocked their fingers.

“Tomorrow,” they said simultaneously.

“I love you Charles Dobrin.”

“And I, you Emma Geller.”

With that, the pair parted ways, unbeknownst to them, their world was about to come crumbling down.