"Why were you sleeping on the couch? Is anything wrong?" I ... um ... I guess I fell asleep. What time is it?" It's 8:30. I came home to change but I ...otta get back to the office. Are you okay? I'll stay if there's something wrong."Rubbing my eyes I said, "No, nothing's wrong. Do what you have to do."I trailed Ron upstairs but took a detour to Mike's room. Peeking in, I saw the messed up bed and his clothes on the floor where he left them. Then my eyes opened wide. I ran into the room and. “You look ... beautiful. It’s weird seeing you this way.”She ran her hand through her hair as she almost blushed. “Thank you...”“Seeing you in German uniform, though ... that’s the weird thing.”Meanwhile, somewhere in one of the German trenches near the town of Épehy, deep down in the network of dug out mud, stood an officer that was interrogating a prisoner... “Fuck you, Lambert, I am not telling you shit!” yelled a British POW that was handcuffed to a chair.“If you tell me the whereabouts of. He was helping her through all of this. She deeply appreciated his help and yet, he suffered the same loss. Bob, his father, was gone too.If there was anything that she could do for Jason, it would be done. Even in her intense state of mourning, she recognized how great Jason's help had been. Yet, like when someone is at a loss for words, she was also at a loss for a way to return her gratitude.Later she would ask Stan. But for now, the steady arm to help carry her through the rest of the day. Tom Kendall had always impressed me as being fair, for a reporter. I hadn't known he carried, as well. That particular item never came up, of course.I made sure everyone knew the story was an exclusive, and that I would speak to no other news source. The interview went very well, I thought. Afterwards, I wished I had kept my mouth shut. That night, I was national news again.Every outlet seemed to show the interview, and they all talked to witnesses who had been at the scene. They made me sound.