When Winters got home, it was already dark.
In the officers' residential area, every inhabited house had lit candles.
The pale yellow candlelight seeped through the cracks of doors and windows, making each residence on the street look like a hooded lantern used in trenches.
And Winters could always find his home at a glance among the dozens of identical two-story buildings.
Because Anna would always hang a lamp at the garden gate to guide him home.
He couldn't help but quicken his pace.
From a dozen steps away from the front yard, he vaguely heard the laughter and joy from inside the house.
As he pushed open the garden gate, a bell rang, and the voices ceased.
After a rush of footsteps, the house door was pushed open, and the firelight of the home illuminated the front yard, with Anna in the light.
"You're back," Anna opened her arms.
"I'm back," Winters stepped forward quickly and gently kissed Anna on the cheek.
