She had always been there. Standing exactly eight inches from his chair. Her hands clasped in front of her.

He never noticed her. Sure, he saw her but never beyond the uniform.

And perhaps that was the problem.

At Hughes' funeral, he felt like weeping. Not caring who saw him.

He felt like he was to blame. Hughes' had been looking for him.

Hughes had sad to surround himself with friends and allies.

Hughes would say jokingly to find a wife.

He smiled slightly.

It was raining when he realized, he already did.