Daniel Pov Prisoner Of Night And Fog

Chapter 13

Dusk had begun to stretch across the city as we reached the Diana Temple in the Hofgarten.
I continued riding the bike there, Fräulein Müller on the handlebars, I noticed she had spaced out a little, hopefully, she doesn't fall off, or then I might have some issues. I coasted the bike to a stop, I held the bike with one hand and offered her a hand to help her down. She had accepted my hand, but once she got off, her eyes widened, and she ripped her hand away. 
My face darkened, she had held the bike, and I let it go, she brought her hands to her chest, the bike resting against her hip, I noticed her arms were shaking, it could be because it was cold, or she was on the bikes handles, or some other reason "I see, you have remembered yourself" I said softly before I sighed.

I started to walk to Diana Temple, I looked at the path I had to admit, after what happened, I thought she might've changed a bit. There was something else, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was. I heard her footsteps and her wheeling the bike beside her.

I went inside and leaned against the wall, looking down, not wanting her to read my face. I didn't look her way, even when I heard her light footsteps on the stone floor of the Diana Temple. I suddenly felt her cool fingers skim over my hand. I felt my breath catch in my throat, did she really intentionally touch me?
I tilted my head slightly, enough to see her face "Thank you for helping me off the bicycle" she said softly.
I lifted my head to look at her, I realised that I had clenched my jaw, I let it unclench, she was still thankful, even if it was against the rules she's grown up with. "You're welcome" I muttered.

We sat on the ground, I tried to open the lock, and after a few minutes, I pulled my shoe and started to smash it against the box. Fräulein Müller looked at me shocked, before looking to the box, looking startled. By now, I think she doesn't like violence in general, or anything similar to it.
Inside the box was a small leather book, smaller than my palm, maybe the size of Fräulein Müller's palm.
I read through some of the pages, mainly looking at the dates, I saw the date 10th of November, 1923. This was it, I quickly skimmed it "Read it" I instructed "And you'll start to understand, as I have" I explained.

She stood up and went to the archway to read in better light, I decided to read over her shoulders, the dairy wrote:

10 November 1923,
I am dying. I must write this down before it is too late. The tall shoemaker Müller marched in the front line, a few feet ahead of me. When we reached the Residenzstrasse, the street was too narrow for him to walk with the others, so he continued on ahead of them. I think he was hit first. I saw his body jerk once. Then he stumbled in front of Herr Hitler, his body acting as a shield, absorbing the bullets meant for our leader. He was dead in an instant. Then I was shot and on the pavement, too. I dragged myself forward on my elbows, trying to get to Hitler. He had fallen, too, maybe shot. But Müller's corpse lay between us. There were powder burns on his back. I knew at once what those marks meant-- someone had shot him at close range. It must have been one of our men, but I can't imagine who. I wanted to tell Hitler, but he was already scrambling up, helped by two other comrades, and they were hustling him away, and I tried to run, too, toward the centre of the city with everyone else--

I stopped reading when I heard Fräulein Müller's heavy, shaky breathing. She had brought her palms to her eyes, I don't know if it was to dry her eyes, or to push out the image of her father out of her head, maybe both?
She had very shaky breaths, and I noticed she had clenched her fist. I thought of my words carefully "I'm sorry. This must be hard for you" I said, trying to keep my voice quiet, trying to comfort her a bit, at least the best I could to someone I didn't know that well, and had found out a dark truth behind her late father's death.
She took a deep breath, trying to gain some control over her voice before she spoke "How did you find out about the dairy?" She asked, her voice quiet, and slightly dangerous.
She turned me, her eyes dark, I looked into her eyes, I knew she was venerable at the moment.
I won't lie to her, there is no point, she could rat me out, or hurt me herself "Stefan Dearstyne came to the München Post offices last week, late at night. I was the only reporter still there.
Stefan had recently found the dairy, and was deeply troubled by what was revealed. He had known nothing about his brother's suspicions and Lars had died the day after writing that entry. Apparently, Stefan had been asking questions at NSDAP meetings and speeches, but he wasn't getting anywhere. I agreed to help him investigate in return for an exclusive scoop" I explained, trying to keep my voice soft, as not to rub salt to her newly opened wound.

She braced her hand on the archway frame. She had her eyes glazed over, she looked like she was rethinking everything, and reliving memories.
After a few moments she looked up "I need to know what happened" she said rather harshly, and in a rather dark tone. I guess she was close to her father, so she was hurt.
She was going to go through with it "Even if means your family loses its privileged status?" I asked, wanting to confirm it.
She turned from the archway and gripped the frame rather hard, I could see that her hand was pink, she probably broke some skin, "Even then, Herr Cohen." she said.
"Very well." I nodded, looking into her navy eyes for a short moment "You realised it's very likely whoever killed your father is a high-ranking National Socialist, for he would have been marching in the front lines. And whatever we uncover will create a scandal within the Party" I said.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" She snapped back, but her voice was shaking rather badly.
I couldn't blame her, she grew up hating me, and she just found proof of her father's murder "No" I said quietly "I want what I suspect you want, although you may not wish to admit it. The truth." I thought about my next words carefully "No matter what it costs" I added.