the law of attraction | reus + lewandowski

THIRTEEN

Same Day

—

I sat at the table with Robert and Marco, not wanting to eat, yet not knowing what else to do. I'd lost my appetite the moment I overheard Robert's conversation with Lukasz, and the confusion over it's context wasn't helping me, either.

"This is delicious, Magdalena." Marco finally spoke, quietly. "I missed your cooking. Is something wrong? You've barely touched your food."

I felt my cheeks grow red as I stared at Marco. They want to kill you! I think? "I'm not feeling very well," I responded. "I guess I'm just tired. I'm sorry, I know you don't want to see me like this."

Marco only shook his head and tried his best to smile. "I just wanted to see you, I don't care how."

"How is Elena? She never writes to me."

"Elena is..." Marco's voice drifted off. "She's—well, she's sick."

"Sick how? And for how long?" Instantly, I frowned.

Marco cleared his throat, set his fork down, and stared at me. "I'm not sure how she got sick, but she hasn't been doing well. I've had a doctor come see her, but with resources being so minimal, it's difficult. Whatever she has is worse than a cold. Maybe it's the flu, or something." He paused. "In any event, I've had to start a search for a new housemaid. And I was wondering if you think your sister would want to do it."

I blinked. "My sister?" I thought of Klara and how desolate she'd been ever since we got to the camp. She hated Marco with a passion, and would hate working for him, but it was safer than having to work in the camp—especially now that Robert's factory wasn't an option. "Yes," I responded. "It would be really kind of you to have her work in the house. But she's fragile, and—I hope you don't treat her the way you treated me."

Marco stared at me, unsure of what to say. To agree would be to admit that our past wasn't pleasant, but to disagree would mean something just as bad. Robert spoke out of nowhere.

"There's a movie tonight. They're showing Cover Girl, with Rita Hayworth. Maybe we should go see it."

I nodded, smiling a little. That was my favorite part about being out of the camp; the fact that I was allowed do things I could do before the war began. We went to the movie around half an hour later, though because Marco was still in uniform, we received plenty of dirty looks from those around us. I couldn't blame the people who looked at us that way, but I hated being looked at as though I was a traitor. Am I?

The movie was pleasant, but with Marco there, I couldn't manage to focus on what was on the screen. Robert held one of my hands while Marco held the other, causing me to think about how wrong all of this was. And what was even worse was the fact that Robert hated Marco, something I found entirely shocking. When I thought about Robert conspiring to kill Marco, my heart churned for a number of reasons, but the most prevalent was one I knew I wasn't ready to admit to myself: I didn't want Marco to die.

After the movie, we dropped Marco back by the gates of the camp, where we timidly kissed goodbye before he mounted his horse and rode into the night. It was foolish of us to be that way, too shy to admit full heartedly how we felt, but neither of us knew what to do about it.

The car ride after Marco left was silent. Robert placed his hand on my lap, but it felt cold. I stared at him, unsure of what to think. Clearly, he wasn't who I thought he was—but who was he, then?

It wasn't until I had changed into a silk chemise for bed that he entered my room and moved behind me, placing his hands on my waist and gazing at our reflection in the mirror as I took off my earrings. "We need to talk," he spoke, his lips moving against my ear.