Glenn Hutchinson stood at the kitchen doorway, clad in his standard army uniform, standing upright.
The military garb was sharp-edged, a cold wind blowing in from behind him as if it could even slice through the wind itself.
Snowflakes flitted outside while some had settled on Glenn's military cap and shoulders, adding a touch of stark whiteness to his already rugged appearance.
Flossie met his deep-set eyes.
For some reason, she felt a surge of fear.
Flossie's brows furrowed slightly.
"Captain Hutchinson."
Among the overly shocked cooks, suddenly someone cried out in another tone of surprise, and panic.
At that, as soon as the voice fell, a crowd of people uniformly shifted their gaze toward the figure at the doorway.
Catching them off-guard, nearly most them gasped in a breath of cold air.
Wasn't he supposed to be on the training field? How did he suddenly appear in the kitchen?
"Flossie Wright!"
