“I have loved you and still do love you, Otto. But the life I had hoped for with you, it didn’t look the way it does now. I also loved Danner, and I still love him. I love you both differently and I can’t say that will change, and I can’t pretend to be unaffected by my grief.”
“You still love him?”
“Love doesn’t just die.”
“It fades, Emilie.”
“True love—it doesn’t fade. I’m sorry for you. I’m sorry for me, and I’m sorry for him.”
“I guess I didn’t realize I was marrying a woman with a taken heart,” he says, pressing his fingertips against his chest. I know I’m hurting him, but I won’t lie. I never have. If he had asked me these questions two years ago, I would have said the same.
“There’s nothing you didn’t know about me. We have chosen—” he has chosen, “to see what we want to see and that’s okay too.” I step closer to him, feeling guilt for never being able to offer him my entire heart.
“I see,” he says, sniffling.
“I’ve been a good wife and loyal to you. I gave you my word and I wouldn’t go back on that. I’ll continue to live up to the promises I made to you even though now, it seems, they aren’t enough. And for that, I’m sorry. But he has beenourfriend, not just mine. When you look at him, what do you see? Because if you for one second imagine what his face might look like if a Nazi fires a bullet through the center of his head, how—how would you feel then?”
Otto’s chin juts out, dimpling as he gasps for air. Tears flood from his eyes and he falls to his knees, clutching his chest before pressing his forehead into the ground. “Oh God, I can’t—” he cries out. “I never wanted life to be this way. I wanted to be a goddamn pilot. That’s it. I wanted to fly and see the world from above the clouds, feel the wind take me where I’m supposed to go. That’s what I wanted. I don’t want to watch the torture of innocent people, especially not someone who grew up like a brother to me. I was jealous of him before, of course I was, but I want him to live and have an equal chance at life like we do.”
I cross my arms over my chest, embracing myself with the hug I desperately need. Nothing will make this relentless pain stop and we can’t avoid the truth set out before us.
Otto struggles back up to his feet, clenching and unclenching his hands repetitively. “I can admit this was my father’s doing, or honestly, my uncle’s, for that matter. You know the influence he has over my vater,” he confesses, a known issue that goes unspoken about.
“And the influence your father has over you,” I add gently.
Otto’s red-rimmed eyes meet mine, his brows sewn together above the bridge of his nose.
“Everything made sense when your reason for coming here was simply to avoid being called into battle. But what we’re facing now isn’t a battlefield. War is a fight between opposing sides. This is abuse of power and control, cornering the helpless and taking Germany’s losses out on them.”
“I know, I feel it too,” he whispers with a shallow gasp for air. “But what can I do to free us from this hostage-like situation?”
“Your father and uncle should be protecting you—us, not shadowing our lives with threats if we disagree,” I say, boisterously. “Your father should have found a way for us to break away from this. He made a mistake by pulling you in with this agency, he should be correcting it. That’s what a father does for his son.”
Otto shakes his head and grits his teeth. “My vater, he’s a coward,” he says bitterly. “He’s afraid with Dietrich answering to Himmler. Himmler is Hitler’s right-hand man. We are in the direct line of fire.”
“I don’t believe that,” I argue, slapping my hands down onto the tabletop. “I assure you we’re on no one’s radar.” No sooner than the words escape my mouth do I doubt my response. No one knows who is in Hitler’s crosshairs, and no one should assume. I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that we ended up here. I press my fists against my chest, wishing the inflicted pain would subside. “You promised to protect me.”
Otto’s eyes flutter closed, his wet lashes brushing against his cheekbones. “I tried to stop that conversation at dinner. I didn’t want you involved but you made it clear you have your own voice.”
“If you had been honest with me before that night, I never would have opened my mouth,” I say, my words sharp against my tongue.
With a pale complexion and a tremble in his chin, he says, “You’re right. I thought I was protecting you by not telling you what I was led into, but it’s clear to me now, I was wrong.”
I drop my gaze because it’s all too late now. “Whatever the case, I want this to be over and final. It’s torture and it’s murder too. Do you understand that? When you look in the mirror you must see yourself as an accessory to murder, Otto. How can you not?”
“I haven’t murder—I’m not responsible for anyone who?—”
“Yes, you are, and so am I.”
“How was I to know a certain body temperature or a particular part of the body being submerged in cold temperatures could cause immediate death?”
His question infuriates me, stiffening every muscle in my body as I try not to lose my temper. I’ve been digging my fingernails into the flesh above my knees, and I fear I might have punctured my skin by now. “Because I told you so. I told you, and the three assistants, but the experimentation continued despite my plea to rethink their decisions based on the research and notes I had in front of me. You, yourself, told me to stop arguing. Do you recall?”
“If I argue with those three men, they will report back to Dietrich, who will send his findings and notes to Himmler, and if it’s mentioned anywhere that either of us were a roadblock in the experiment, what do you think will happen?”
“Could it be worse than what those innocent subjects are being put through?”
Otto exhales heavily, his shoulders dropping in defeat. “I’ll speak to Dietrich and explain that we’re close to a solution and that we shouldn’t be wasting any more subjects until you find what you’re looking for.”
