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stepped inside his door. Eli turned his face away so Jim wouldn’t see the tears. Jim didn’t need to see them to understand. The letters were strewn on the floor with Molly’s picture near them. Jim stepped up and put his hand on Eli’s shoulder. “Perhaps she didn’t tell you because she still loved you.” “How could a person love another and do that to them?” Eli asked. Eli reached down, picked up Molly’s picture, and was just about to rip it to pieces when Jim pulled it quickly, forcefully, from his hands. Jim’s voice was stern and fatherly. “I’ll take that.” “But Jim, she’s gone out of my life for good.” “Yes, but she’s still a memory, a good memory, and good memories can be hard to come by. I’ll just hang on to this for a few days until you can think more clearly, and then if you still decide to rip it up, that will be your choice.” Eli knew it was no use arguing with him. He was right anyway, and Eli knew it. Eli spent the day going through the letters and memories from home. Jim spent the day listening to Eli. Eli felt like the memories in his mind and the feelings in his heart were a jumbled mass of confusion, like puzzles dumped into one large pile. As he shared his feelings with Jim, it was as if the puzzles were sorting themselves out, though the puzzle was far from complete. He felt like a man caught between two worlds. He didn’t know if he could ever feel England was really home again, but was this home? He had thought it would be once Molly came and they were married. But now, that 35