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It’s Christmas, so the bombs have been quietened. The Star calls me towards a little cottage in the countryside of England.
I just exchanged addresses with this German, Niklas. We made a deal – whoever survives this hell-hole will be sending the other’s family a Christmas gift.
Strangely, I hope both get one.
My Handsome Englishman,
I hope to open Niklas’s gift, but not before you sending him one. I’d rather have you here, fighting with me. There’s nothing sweet and proud about dying in a war.
The Tree stands without a Star. For that I need you.
P.S. Did you tell him your wife is German too?