The Henderson Kid
Am-Chau Yarkona
Disclaimer: not my character.
G
I'm sorry, Mrs Henderson. Your son is dead.
How can you just write that, to a stranger? A stranger who brought this man into the world—this man who has just left it, a man you've never known, leaving this world because you couldn't work hard enough.
Because his body, and a thousand others, had been torn to pieces by war, and some of them couldn't be saved.
I'm sorry, Mrs Henderson, I write. Your son was a good solider.