When I sent them off, I sent children. I wanted them to stay safe. To stay children. I'd watched as they had grown apart. Peter took his role seriously. He was popular and charming, but sometimes smothering. He had stepped up and taken care of them all while I had managed the house. Susan helped me cook and clean. She was bright and pretty, but obsessed with proper behavior. Edmund had changed at school. I didn't know quite what had happened, but he had become surly and difficult. Lucy was the baby – indulged by the rest, though lately Edmund seemed determined to make her cry. I suspected that it was because Lucy was Peter's favorite.

Then my husband left for the war and things became even harder. I pulled away as I became lost in worry. Susan and Peter stepped up, children playing at being adults. Susan cooked dinner by herself sometimes. At bed they worked together to tuck the younger ones into bed, though both Edmund and lucy fought it. Then Peter looked in as Susan went to bed. Finally, he put himself to bed. The routine was touching and slightly self-conscious.

When I picked them up at the station, I thought nothing had significantly changed. They seemed older, but it had been a while and a country at war ages everyone. Edmund and Peter were close once more, but they had been in the country together with little to distract them. Only after time had passed and the joy of reuniting had faded did I notice the differences. They were now a self-contained unit who worked well together. They deferred to each other. When upset, they turned to Susan. When sad, they went to Lucy. When in dispute, they looked to Edmund. For guidance, they went to Peter. And although Peter's word was sometimes challenged, when he spoke with a certain tone, they obeyed without hesitation. In fact, even when they argued, if Peter stood firm, he was always obeyed. If they needed a parent, they did not come to me; they went to Susan or Peter. The two eldest still put the younger ones to bed, but the routine was comfortable now, rather than self-conscious. I felt unnecessary. But as time passed, they became more like children once more. Peter and Susan in particular. I was saddened that my children were fighting again, but it was reassurance that I had not lost them yet. They were still children.