Gestapo

8

"Why are you here? They will hurt you!" Rebecca did not love Peter as she suspected he loved her, but he had tried to save her, and he couldn't have known about Max, so she did care for his safety. He was not allowed at the women's table, and he would surely be clubbed for it. But he also seemed to have something to tell her. What, after all this time?

"You can leave today," ah. She had thought he would try something like this, but she had heard stories of such failed plans.

"Rebecca, I know you doubt me - but you can go to Max," this froze her. Max? But then what of Peter?

"Peter, do you love me?" He had not been expecting her to ask, but he answered softly and without hesitation.

"Yes,"

"But you are not coming, are you?" She already knew this from the way he had said that she could leave, but it made her sad that he would let her go to make her happy. He would be killed for helping her - he must know that. "NeinI, Peter. We will go together or not at all. I will not leave you here," Peter smiled sadly at her efforts.

"I will come to you tonight," was all he said before leaving. Just in time, as a guard had seen them talking together, but now he dismissed them as hopeless lovers and returned to his meal. The guards were being very magnanimous today. There was something wrong.

After breakfast, everyone was escorted back to their cells and locked in. It was called 'free time'. The Nazis were very humorous, Rebecca thought.

Hours later, there was a thud as the wooden door to Rebecca's shared cell was flung open.

"Shnayder! Come!" The officer turned and walked out again, expecting her to follow. No one would dispute a direct order, if they wanted to walk another day.

Rebecca scrambled to her feet and followed the officer out of her cell, shutting the door behind her, and she was reminded of another door, from two months ago. A door that had not closed when it should have.

"Where are we going?" Rebecca regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth. How would the officer react? Would she be beaten? But she got her answer, though it was short. "A walk," it was cold, wet, and windy outside, but Rebecca would not complain, for fear of a worse fate.