We complete the Christmas dinner, traditionally a peaceful affair, now solemn and somber. Despite the sumptuous dishes and their delectable flavors, they turn bitter and acrid. Only Francine manages to eat as though nothing has happened. That's right, I haven't told her about Andermis yet. I fear that she'll lose her innocence and purity. Everyone remains tight-lipped about Andermis. Not just for Francine's sake, but because no one can accept the truth. Andermis hasn't been enrolled as a fallen soldier. His body has never been found. A sudden attack on his base, and Andermis is believed to be buried beneath the rubble.

I help Francine to her room first, then stay behind with the family. Their faces all display a mixture of shock and distress, as several misfortunes converge upon the family's fate. I think perhaps I should wait for another occasion, but how long should I wait? Unpleasant news will remain painful no matter when it's shared, casting people into resentment or agony. If that's the case, then I might as well inform them beforehand. I know I'll never gain instant approval in a snap, so forewarning is a reasonable choice.

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I signal for the servants to leave the room, in the bewildered gaze of my parents-in-law and Augustin. As the door closes shut, I stand, composed and dignified, ready to make this decision. I don't want them to think I'm saying this in a moment of emptiness and fragility. I want them to know that I'm determined and won't stop until I achieve it.

In the cold of Christmas night, as a curtain of white snow drifts down from the heavens, I proclaim with unwavering conviction:

"I want a divorce."