Juliana crouched in the snow, her finger nervous on the trigger of her rifle. She was going to find that Nazi asshole John Smith, she determined as she ran quietly from tree to tree, hyper-aware of her surroundings. She was going to shoot the Reichsfuhrer dead once and for all. She didn't care if it killed her in the process. Juliana took cover behind a piece of broken machinery from the train crash and carefully scoped the forest for her target.

A twig snapped. Juliana whipped around and clutched her gun to her side tightly. Everything slowed and she heard the sound of her own heartbeat beat beat beat. And then, a whimper. It sounded like a woman. A woman? Could it be another Nazi guard, like Martha? What if it had been someone caught in the crossfire? What if she was hurt? What if it was a trap?

At the sound of another cry, Juliana began to approach the sound. She felt her way behind a huge oak tree, her gun raised high, heart in her stomach, and looked through the smoke from the train to find the First Lady of the North American Nazi Movement herself. It was Helen, fighting for breath, wearing a high society blouse soaked through with her own blood and stumbling around clutching her stomach.

"Helen," Juliana breathed, but stopped five feet short of the woman. In her daze of trauma, Helen's eyes hadn't found her. Juliana's first instinct was to help the woman, but Helen was a monster just like her husband, after all. She knew she should leave Helen to die alone just like Frank had. How many people had died because of her complacency? And Thomas… Juliana didn't even want to think about Thomas anymore.

And yet. Helen was a person. Just like her. And right now, she was a person who had done the right thing way too late, but the right thing still, the ultimate sacrifice, for them. And she was a person who was dying.

Juliana's legs and arms moved out of their own volition to run and catch Helen, who stumbled into her arms with a sob. Helen was wet and shaking in Juliana's arms as she lowered the woman to the ground. "Shh," Juliana whispered onto Helen's forehead. Helen looked so young lying there with her hair splayed all around her, like a little girl but covered in dirt and blood. She pushed bloody blonde hair out of Helen's eyes and rocked her gently. "You're okay, Helen, everything's gonna be okay. Don't talk."

"Julia." Helen looked like she was making tremendous effort to force final words out of her throat between raspy sobs. "Take care of. Amy and Jennifer."

Juliana nodded violently. "I promise you, Helen, your daughters are going to be just fine, I promise." Juliana looked up, biting her lip to keep from crying. "They're gonna be with their uncle, and they're gonna learn to ride horses, and go to country dances, and look up at the stars at night— you know? They're gonna be okay."

Helen's eyes were beginning to glaze over. She was looking to the sky. "Thomas…"

Juliana's tears fell as the light went out of Helen's eyes. For a reason she could not explain, she felt shaken to her core. With unsteady hands, Juliana closed Helen's eyes and laid her gently on the ground. And then she ran.

As she ran into the tunnels, visions whipped across her eyelids like wind. The six lines from her meditation, scratched into a stone door. Joe raising a gun to shoot her in the face. This was where it had happened, here. She felt like something terrible was getting ready to happen.

But what if she took the other tunnel? That's what this had really all been about, right? People making choices that could end in atomic bombs on Hiroshima, or atomic bombs on San Francisco. Or, peace. She chose the other path, and came face-to-face with the portal. There was Wyatt, and all the other fighters. Juliana was starting to feel very faint. Everything shook in its place as the portal warmed up. And then, the man in the high castle turned around to face her. He was alive, by God, he was alive.

Hawthorne could sense something was wrong and ran to pull Juliana to him. She sobbed into his shoulder with relief. He was alive. And maybe today, the Allies had won. Juliana held onto Hawthorne tightly and cried like she hadn't cried for years. She cried for Frank, for Joe, for Thomas, for everyone. "Oh," Hawthorne said softly, like a father, pulling her face into his hands, kissing her lightly on the head. "Baby."

Things began to rattle. A flash of light, and then people began to walk into the world.

"They're here," Juliana proclaimed. "They've come for us."