Danner nods in understanding as I drop my notepad into my pocket. He reaches for my hand, still struggling to lift his arms. I wish I could get him up onto his feet and help him walk around, but rehabilitation isn’t a part of the procedures done in this asylum of a hospital. I give him my hand and he pulls it down against his chest, his bones protruding sharply against my palm, his heart beating tersely against his flesh and my mine. “A rare honeybee,” he says. “How lucky am I to know you?”
“I’m the lucky one, Danner. It’s me.”
THIRTY-TWO
EMILIE
OCTOBER 1942
Dachau, Germany
My back aches as I stretch my shoulders, the result of sitting hunched on the edge of my bed for so long trying to read medical texts, questioning every decision I’ve made up until this point.
Danner’s vitals match the picture of health, meaning there’s no reason to keep him in observation any longer. Until now, I’ve been able to see him each day following his near-death submersion because I’ve made it clear that post-testing data was as important as the other information garnered along the way.
Now that the research trial is officially over, I’m not sure where Danner will end up once he leaves the sick bay, and I’ll lose control over keeping him safe, fed, warm, and healthy.
The sunlight has dipped below the window, leaving me with only a pinpoint of light to continue obsessing over my data. Otto’s heavy footsteps pacing up and down the hallway downstairs isn’t helping my concentration either.
Otto’s hand claps down against the banister in the stairwell, his wedding band causing a vibrating echo between the walls. Iclose my book and slip it into the drawer of my nightstand as he hollers, “Emilie, we need to leave. We’re going to be late.”
I push our bedroom door open wide and make my way to the top of the stairs, clasping the railing as I imagine tumbling forward in this haze I feel trapped in. Otto is staring at his watch, a dozen steps below me. “Go on without me. I’m not feeling well.” I’ve made no attempt to prepare myself to leave the house tonight and still have an apron tied around my neck.
Otto makes his way up the steps, two at a time, taking my hand as if ready to plead. “Emi, I know you hate me. I know I have destroyed our marriage, and I know there’s nothing I can do to fix all of the things I have done, but my father and uncle will be there tonight and?—”
“I send my regards,” I say, gritting out the words.
“If you don’t show up with me, you will seem like a loose end to those in command. I will too,” he adds. The genuine fear in Otto’s eyes prickles at my flesh because I know he’s speaking the truth. I’ve been numb, scraping up all the anger I can muster to shield my pain from everything we’ve witnessed.
“We are and always will be loose ends. Do you not see this?”
“Loose ends are removed quietly and inconspicuously. Is that what you want?” he asks, replying as if I didn’t just tell him it’s too late. If that’s our fate, there isn’t anything we can do to stop it now.
Staring at Otto, I recall the look on his face when he was arguing with me as we were fighting to save Danner. Weeks have passed and I haven’t wanted to be in the same room as him, never mind put on an act and a phony smile to please a bunch of Nazis tonight.
“I’m going to tell them what I know,” I threaten. “It’ll only take a glass of wine or two, and I won’t be able to stop myself.”
Otto’s knuckles turn white as he squeezes the banister. “Please, Emi. I know what Dietrich is capable of—what he’d do tohis own blood if I so much as blinked the wrong way in front of them. If we don’t show up tonight, and I won’t go there without you, he’ll be at our door within the hour in a rage.”
He lifts his hand from the banister, leaving a dark ring from where sweat remains.How much do I have to give in before this will end? I have refused to accept that there’s no way out at this point, but I’m growing closer to the realization. I have no say in anything. I’m doing as I’m told.
“I won’t smile. I won’t take part in small talk. I won’t act like all’s right with the world, but I’ll go and sit at the table quietly to be seen with you, for you, as an obligation to our marriage. I’ll be dressed and ready in a few minutes.”
I pivot on the bottom step and make my way back upstairs. Knowing this is how the conversation would end, I already had my dress hanging up and my shoes polished.
How else to celebrate a momentous occasion than to have upbeat static-ridden jazz filtering through speakers, and the heavy aroma of smoked and seared hors d’oeuvres while prancing around an SS banquet hall. The room could be mistaken for somewhere pleasant, as it only takes linen, polished silverware, and dim lighting to hide the truth of what this building represents.
“You’re here,” Ingrid calls out, holding her gloved hand toward me as she makes her way across the room. Helga and Ursula follow her. “Come let’s get you a drink.”
“I’m not drinking tonight but thank you. Flat water will be fine.”
“I know what that means,” Ingrid snickers. “Is there something you want to tell us?” She reaches to my stomach, caressing the silk ribbon belt draped around my waist.
“I’m not with child,” I say dryly.
Ingrid pulls her hand back, and places it over her chest, covering it with her other hand. “I apologize for my grubby hands then.”
“No apology necessary,” I say, glancing around the room to see what other familiar faces I recognize.
