The War that Saved My Life by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley

“You’re not to worry,” the iron-faced woman said, which was perhaps the
most ridiculous lie I’d ever heard. She thumped her clipboard. “I’ve got the
perfect place for you.”
“Are they nice?” Jamie asked.
“It’s a single lady,” the woman replied. “She’s very nice.”
Jamie shook his head. “Mam says nice people won’t have us.”
The corner of the iron-faced woman’s mouth twitched. “She isn’t that
nice,” she said. “Plus, I’m the billeting officer. It’s not for her to decide.”
That meant the lady could be forced to take us. Good. I shifted my weight
off my bad foot and gasped. I could get used to the pain while I was standing
still, but moving made everything so much worse.
“Can you walk?” the iron-faced woman asked. “What did you do to your
foot?”
“A brewer’s cart ran over it,” I said, “but it’s fine.”
“Why don’t you have crutches?” she asked.
Since I didn’t know what crutches were, I could only shrug. I started to
walk across the room, but to my horror my foot gave way. I fell onto the
wooden floor. I bit my lip to keep from screaming.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” the iron-faced woman said. She knelt down. I
expected her to yell, or haul me to my feet, but instead—this was even worse
than falling in the first place—she put her arms around me and lifted me off
the floor. Carried me. “Hurry up,” she said to Jamie.
Outside, she deposited me into the backseat of an automobile. An actual
automobile. Jamie climbed in beside me, wide-eyed. The woman slammed the
passenger door, and then she got into the driver’s seat and started the engine.
“It’ll only be a minute,” she said, looking back at us. “It really isn’t far.”
Jamie touched the shiny wood beneath the window beside him. “’S okay,”
he said, grinning. “Take your time. We don’t mind.”
The house looked asleep.