Daniel Pov Prisoner Of Night And Fog

Chapter 20

After a while it was luncheon and I had finished my work for the day. I opened the door and felt the warm breeze, I had started eating an apple and had almost finished. "Herr Cohen!" I heard Fräulein Müller's voice, however something about it sounded off.
I stood still, what on earth is she doing here? I looked to where her voice came from, I was shocked to see her, and in such a condition, her face and arms were bruised, her clothes bloodied and ripped, she was wheeling her bike. I threw the apple core into the bin and folded the paper and put it into my pocket. At least I now know what that bad feeling was about.

I waited on the front steps for her, she walked towards me, I looked at her, her left eye was swollen. This wasn't from a fall, the marks could only be done from a person, you can see the pink handprint on her cheek. "Who did this to you?" I asked.
I can't think of any reason why someone would hurt her, she seemed pained before she spoke "My brother" she said. I was horrified, why would he do that!? She was his own flesh and blood.
I tried not to yell or show my anger "Why did he do it?" I asked.
She thought for a second, she seemed to bite back an excuse or something like that "Because he's cruel" she said.

I nodded, I would say it's a bit farfetched to say, but by looking at her, and from what I've seen of her brother, I can't argue with it. Now another question came to my mind "Why'd you come to me?" I asked, there was no real reason I could think of.

"Because I have no one else to go to," she said, she sounded like she was going to cry, but she didn't "Herr Cohen, I wouldn't blame you if you told me to leave you alone and never speak to you again. But I need help. Please" she practically begged.

I was angered, why would she think I would say that? She has clearly been hurt, and in need of help. She looked ill, maybe due to the injuries or maybe because she did "You look ready to collapse" I said at last. I put my hand on hers "Let me wheel this to the nearest streetcar stop." I suggested.
It really looked like she was in lots of pain, if she is willing to follow me, I'll take her to get checked out "Where are we going?" She asked.
She managed to keep up with my slightly slowed pace "The last place any of your National Socialist friends would look for you" I explained. She followed me, and it was nice to know she is willing to get some help.

We got to the northeast section of München, which is known to be filled with Communists. I noticed she had tried to make herself smaller, she looked nervous, since she wouldn't come here often.
I found the doctors, I led her inside, keeping my eyes on her, to make sure she doesn't run off. It didn't really look like a doctor's office, but it was, I saw a receptionist typing with two figures laboriously.

The women spoke to me in Russian, asking why I was here. I nodded towards Fräulein Müller. Fräulein Müller had brought her hands to her chest, looking around rather frightened "Come" the woman said in German to Fräulein Müller while motioning to her. Fräulein Müller had made her way closer, but much to my surprise she had dug her fingers into my arm "Where are we?" she asked.
"A doctor's office," I explained "On the streetcar, all you would say was a friend had bandaged you up. Those injuries look serious, Fräulein Müller. You need to have them looked at" I said.
I looked at her, it looked like she was about to cry from my statement, she had a small smile on her face "Thank you" she muttered.
Her cheeks heated slightly, but she seemed thankful "Please, will you come with me?" she asked.

I was shocked at her request, "I can't" I said, it was the logical thing to do, it isn't my place "Please," she said again "I trust you" she said softly. I was taken aback, earlier she seemed to not be very fond of me, but now she is trusting me.
I smiled lightly, it was nice that she likes me, I turned to the receptionist and told her I'll be going with her, in the little Russian I know. The woman was against it, I argued that the girl next to me, not wanting to say Fräulein Müller's name, doesn't know any Russian.
The woman gave up and beckoned us to follow her "I didn't know you spoke Russian" she commented.
I grinned "Just enough to get into bar fights," I said with a small joking tone.