“Otto, you’re a brilliant man. So please, do tell me the definition of a prisoner before you continue to act so confused as to why Danner is here.”
Otto clears his throat and straightens his shoulders. “Good God, Emilie, I didn’t mean…”
“What is the definition of a prisoner, Otto?” I repeat, staring at the side of his face as he continues to drive. My pulse is racing, my blood boiling, and my face is on fire. I promised myselfI wouldn’t do this because it wouldn’t help anything, but it’s impossible to act like this is all okay.
“I don’t know, Emi, a person who is entrapped as a form of punishment?”
“What did Danner do to deserve this form of punishment?” I ask, holding my stare over him. He needs to admit it out loud—to hear himself speak the unthinkable words.
I watch Otto’s Adam’s apple bob up and down against the taut skin of his neck. “Because,” he says, his word hitching in his throat. His eyes water as he covers his hand over his mouth.
“Because he was born Jewish, remember?” I say.
No response. Only more bobbing of his Adam’s apple.
We’re about to pull into the exterior entrance to the Dachau prison and Otto presses on the brakes. “Are you going to sign the agreement, or not? I would rather you not go inside again if you don’t plan to adhere to their requirements.”
I’m not sure if Otto will feel more concerned if I agree or disagree at this moment. “You said if I don’t return, there will be consequences. Did you not?”
“Yes, and not ones my father or uncle will be able to control, I’m afraid.”
“So do I have a choice?”
Despite my desire to help Danner, walking back in there, knowing what I know, will forever change me. I’m already a different person to the one I was before yesterday. It will only become worse. Maybe I should run. What if that’s the only way to keep everyone safe?
“No, Emilie. No. We can’t turn back. You’ve already seen what’s behind the gates. By not returning, you and I will be in more danger than we’ve ever been in. I assure you.”
“I won’t say I agree. If I don’t have a choice, then do what you must and I’ll do what I’m told. But I don’t agree.”
My chin quivers and I stare out my window, desperately avoiding the reflection of my tear-filled eyes. This is how everyone takes part in a revolt. This is why our country is turning on itself. I’ve fallen victim to the trap just like many others.
“Okay then,” he says, parking the car and opening the door.
I slide across the seat to follow him and brace myself for another haunting walk through the barren block leading to the sick bay.
“What is that?” Otto asks, pointing to a notepad I’m clutching tightly to my chest.
“My notes on hypothermia.” I continue to walk alongside him even though he seems to be stumbling over his feet.
“We have books here.”
“I have books written before 1933 at home. They’re more reliable.”
“Shh, Emilie, you can’t speak like that here. Someone could hear you.”
I squeeze my notebook tighter against my chest and scan the surrounding walls, expecting to find peepholes, proving we’re being watched and listened to. Otto’s breath shudders as he holds his hand against my back and ushers me forward toward the same hallway we walked through yesterday.
Upon entering the main area filled with prisoners, the sight is now familiar, except for a few new faces in addition to those who were here yesterday. Danner is back in the same spot too. How long has he been here? I’m not sure if they made him sleep here last night. Where else would he sleep?I bite the inside of my cheek as my temples throb. I can’t cry. Someone could see. I swallow hard and try to take in a mouthful of air to hold on to.
As we walk past Danner, Otto keeps his head up and eyes set forward, ignoring Danner’s existence as if he’s an uninteresting portrait collecting dust on the wall. The behavior enrages me, but I bite my tongue as I peer at Danner through the cornerof my eye, giving him a subtle glance just so he knows I’m acknowledging his presence. Of course, he may assume I’ve been brainwashed overnight to think along the same wavelength as Otto, but I would like to think Danner knows me well enough to know I wouldn’t collapse under pressure so easily.
We pass Dietrich in the final hallway that leads to the lab we were in yesterday.
“Good morning. Welcome back, Frau Berger. A pleasure to have you here. I’ve left the paperwork on the table for you to review and sign. Once you’re through, you can leave it on my desk in the office across the hall,” he says, speaking to me as if we only met for the first time yesterday. He stops short in his steps and points to what must be his office. “Ah, one more thing.” He pivots his stance to walk in the direction we’re heading, leading us to the lab.I glance over at Otto, curious about his expression. I find him unusually pale and jittery as we enter the lab, finding three unfamiliar uniformed men. “The commander in chief has enlisted three servicemen to assist. These men have helped with previous assignments and will be of great help to you.”
They aren’t doctors either.
“Heil Hitler,” Dietrich greets them with a salute.
