From far away it seemed he heard the cries of his newborn daughter, she sounded desperate for warmth and comfort, but he stood rooted to the spot, trembling. He had thought that the war had rid him of the constant nagging fears of life, but was wrong. The war could not drive away the fears that had become as much a part of him as his hands and feet, it could only numb the pain. His father had died in the war, ironic, as he had survived the thick of the one before, shot through the chest by a combination of bullets and curses. Though the two had never gotten along when he was a child, he had crumpled under the blow that had been dealt upon him at the shocked expression on his father's face as he died. Then he had told the secrets entrusted to him, and had nearly lost the war for the Allies. Had it not been for Tina, he would have died then and there, but she had given him something to live for, true love.
He had married her, and they had bought a house in one of the few undamaged parts of London. There they had lived for two years, happy, alone. Until one day Tina discovered that she was pregnant. That had sent him into a tizzy of worry and self-doubt at his fathering ability. Tina had told him not to be a dope, and slowly he had warmed up to the idea of fatherhood. After all, he had Jacob and Queenie for role models, they had done a wonderful job with their two boys, William and Thomas. But nothing could have prepared him for the news that Tina was dying.
Cancer. That was the official verdict.
Untreated, it was bound to kill her. Treated, it would kill the unborn child inside. A twisted moral dilemma that held the lives of the two he loved most in its grasp. They went to several different doctors and got several different answers, only one seemed right.
Eight months later the cancer was untreated, but there was still hope for Tina. The pregnancy had outraced the cancer and slowed its progress through her body, but she was weak, and giving birth didn't help matters. In a matter of days she would likely be dead, and the child would be left to her grieving father, Newt.
Those few days seemed like an eternity. Hour after hour Tina grew weaker as the cancer grew stronger. She had enough time to say goodbye to her family, but only just enough, she died before dawn the next day, with baby Elizabeth in her arms.