October 1917, London.
Soldiers continue to be brought back to the rear, but only the wounded ones, those who no longer have the ability to fight. I don't know if it's a blessing or a disguised misfortune to see them. Every day, my Association and I witness the vehicles from the front lines transporting these broken soldiers back. Some have lost their arms, legs, or both. Some have lost their lower bodies, while others have maimed faces or limbs. Just yesterday, I saw a wife welcoming her husband home, but all that remained of him was his torso and head, as his limbs were severed by a bomb blast. I had never truly understood the pain until I witnessed what war had done to them. My mind shattered into fragments as I beheld the devastation inflicted upon these soldiers. They may have returned home, but the truth is they died out there, along with their former selves.
Even if it were Augustin, I would never want him to endure such horrors. Knowing it's impossible, no one deserves to bear the physical and emotional pain like this. Landry's husband, Eddie Rockwell, also returned two weeks ago. The poor girl nearly fainted when she received news of her husband's return, but luckily Eddie was only shot in the shoulder, temporarily immobilising his arm for a few months without endangering his life. There's no need to describe her emotions in detail. I suggested Landry stay home during this time, as a way to mend their marital bond. Today, Landry can finally return with the group to lend a hand. Now is a crucial time as the war reaches its final stages, with more and more casualties and returning soldiers in need of treatment. Politicians and the media predict that the war could last another year or two. If that's the truth, we won't have any leisure time from now until then to rest.
Our Association is growing stronger every day, attracting more assistance. My sisters also contribute a significant part, hoping to provide for those in need. As for myself, my money and assets are securely held in the bank, frozen by my father-in-law, depriving me of any decision-making power. Unwillingly, I had to sell all my jewellery, take up ordinary jobs like delivering letters or tutoring, in order to contribute to the fund. Fortunately, my endeavours have yielded tremendous results. The media was ecstatic, earning numerous headlines about one of London's wealthiest dynasties. To this day, I still remember the grim expression on Lady Rose's face and the smoky rage in Lord Lionel's eyes as they read the headline, "The Mortens: Looking like a millionaire but with a poor heart." From being a small, seemingly unknown Association, the aristocrats throughout London suddenly became "generous" benefactors. Money, being their lifeline and an essential aspect of their existence, yet the sense of patriotism, goodwill, and gratitude towards the soldiers could bring them more than any amount of money spent. Besides, no one wants to be labelled as "miserly," "ungrateful," or "lacking a clear definition of humanity" like the Mortens when their daughter-in-law has to work like any other person. Out of options, my father-in-law had to permit the circulation of my funds.
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And though I don't want my labour to be criticised or used as an example of something shameful, the story, invisibly and subtly, moves in a positive and beneficial direction for me, and I can't help but feel somewhat triumphant. In fact, we have now become an official organisation recognized by the authorities. Number 16 Franklin Street is our office, once an abandoned room that has been renovated. However, we don't stay there regularly; we travel all over London, wherever assistance is needed. With the influence of pioneers like us, similar organisations are gradually emerging in regions across the United Kingdom, and that is truly a source of pride. The work makes me forget my loneliness and secret desires, as I consider it a blessing reserved for those fighting out there. Francine is now four years old, surpassing that dreadful phase that no parent can fathom. Therefore, I can fulfil my duties without being distracted.