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June, 1943

A month passed. It was now the end of June, and hotter than ever. But the weather wasn't what was on my mind—it was the fact that the workers, who were forced to do hard labor, were dying at a frightening rate due to the heat and a lack of water.

Perhaps the saddest part of this all was that workers died at an alarming rate already at this camp. But when you added this in, it was frightening, and heartbreaking. I learned this from Marco, who I overheard talking to a lieutenant during a meeting in the sitting room. The lieutenant suggested that Marco permit more water tunnels to be turned on so that the water wasn't so scarce, but according to Marco, that was something that would be far too expensive.

I felt guilty. In the house, the water ran fine; there was even a swimming pool that got refilled with it every day. I knew I had to try to do something, but it'd taken me time to figure out what. While I knew Marco resented his drunken words towards me on his birthday, I also knew he still held those same emotions. He hadn't tried anything physical with me after that night, but the lack of any other women visiting the house let me know that he wasn't seeing anyone.

I hadn't considered actually attempting to seduce Marco into giving the workers more water until Robert delivered me a letter from my mother. In it, she detailed how bad things were—one of Klara's acquaintances had dropped dead in the factory from being so dehydrated, and my sister had somehow managed to blame me for his. Not Robert, the factory owner, or Marco, the commandant. And somehow I'd managed to feel the guilt.

On this particular night, it was scorching hot. Several parts of the camp were so dry they'd caught fire; something Marco was particularly angry about. When the sun went down and all of my chores were done, and Marco had retreated to his bedroom, I would usually do what I was doing now—I'd go swimming. I had packed my bathing suit in my original suitcase from years ago, of which Marco allowed me to keep, once the jewelry and valuables were removed.

Though I was forbidden from swimming in the pool, I didn't think anyone knew. Not until three days ago, when I looked up at Marco's window to see him leaning against it; smoking a cigarette while he watched me, shamelessly. I wondered just how long he'd been watching me for. I could hold nothing against him, besides the fact that it was somewhat creepy. It was his house and his pool—I was the intruder. Still, we didn't mention it during the days, but would resume our same positions at night.

On this particular night, I had abandoned my swimsuit. I was beyond nervous to do it, but knew it was the best way to influence the commandant. As I floated on my back and gazed at his silhouette in his bedroom window, I wondered if he knew I was watching him; just like I knew he was watching me. Admittedly, I knew that skinny dipping in Marco's pool was a rather drastic measure—but the heat always caused me to do things I normally wouldn't dream of doing.

I watched as Marco stepped as close to the window as he possibly could, pressing the side of his face to it and staring down at me with his cigarette. I allowed this for a few moments before I stood up straight in the pool, held my hand up, and waved Marco over. He disappeared in that very instant.

My cheeks grew warm as I watched as Marco exit the back door a few moments later. Dressed in boxer shorts and a plain t-shirt, even he looked hotter than he wished to be.

I placed my arms on the edge of the swimming pool and stared at the commandant as he approached me, unable to see anything from my collarbone down. He grinned and kneeled down before speaking, his eyes observing what of me he could see.

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