🥀 I Don't Have Time 🥀

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬--𝟎𝟏

                           ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

MICHAEL'S POV
~~~~~~~~~~~~

     They say that misery loves company.
Whoever said that was in fact right.

Sitting at the dinner table with a bunch of Nazi big shots was the exact definition of misery. All they spoke about was how they would win the war, and how the "Jewish menace" was soon to be wiped out.
     I took a sip of my grape juice to hide my disgust. When I put it down, I noticed the girl sitting at the seat diagonal from mine.

It was Quinn O'Clery, a fellow spy and my new partner. Ma and Da had the 'wonderful' idea of setting us up once they had found out the the other Irish diplomats were spies as well. So here we were, at the same dinner party, surrounded by Nazis.

Quinn had half of her long brown hair fastened with a silk bow, and was wearing a tight black dress that went down to her lower thighs, just above her knees. She wore a knitted white cardigan over it all.

I set my glass down and eyed her, watching her for the signal. She glanced at me and very subtly nodded.

At that moment, the SS officer next to me was talking. He said something about a family hiding a Jewish person in their quarters. A woman next to Michael asked how they had been found out.

"Their son reported them," he replied, looking pleased as he took a bit of cake. My eyes widened and I dropped my glass onto the fine China plates we ate on. Glass shards flew as the cup smashed, acting as small mirrors for my horrified face to look back on. The juice spread across my Hitler Youth uniform, completely staining it.

At least I made a juice spill, which was planned.

"Oh dear, is there anywhere Michael can go to clean up?" Ma asked, a glint of approval in her eyes.

"I'll see to it," one of the maids offered. I opened my mouth in protest, but Quinn beat me to it.

"No, no, I'll take him. Come, Michael."

I nodded and stood, following Quinn out of the grand doors of the dining room. I overheard Quinn's mother, Caitlin, apologizing for us both.

"I'm sorry, now that they're 13, it seems like they must do everything together!"

I scoffed lightly as I wiped myself down with napkins I stole from the table.

"Please, Michael, you act as if I want to do this as well," her soft voice said with an unusually sharp edge.

We turned a corner and walked down the hall. I saw a large door that was cracked open just a bit. Quinn walked past it, but I pulled her arm back towards the door.

"Ah—Michael, you could've pulled my arm out of its socket!" She whisper-shouted. I rolled my eyes and motioned towards the door, to which she immediately understood. We carefully opened the door and walked in.

The shelves were lined with books, and pictures and figurines of race cars were used as decor throughout the office space.

Quinn started searching the shelves as I went to the desk. Turning on the overhead light was too much of a risk, so I turned on the green lamp at the corner of the desk. Immediately, I started fiddling with the random stuff I could find on the table—a toy car, pencils, pens, other random junk.

I picked up a copy of Mein Kampf— "My Struggle." Hitler wrote when he was stuck in jail for a year, and now anyone who was in the Nazi party was required to read it. Or, at least was required to own it.

There was nothing special about the book, except for the fact that a playing card was tucked in between pages 67 and 68.

"Hey—hey Quinn, check this out."