I drop the remnants of the ledger into the fire, listening to the hunger and burn. I can’t find him. I might never know what has happened. Whether the lists are fitness rosters, deaths, or transfer logs, I have not seen his name. There are even other Silbergs here. None with a familiar first name.
The cargo trains have stopped coming into Auschwitz with new people too. But trains are still departing with those marked on deportation lists. Those lists are not to be burned. Not yet.
The day ends earlier than usual with Officer Weyman shouting at me to get into his car. Wet snow has begun to fall, flurries gust against the windshield, and the tires slip over fresh patches of ice.
Weyman has been clenching his fists along the steering wheel, grinding his teeth, breathing so heavily I smell the onions he had with his lunch.
“They’re coming for us.”
They?
I’ve stopped responding to him. No matter what I say, it works against me, one way or another. He doesn’t expect a response. He just wants to be heard.
“Did you hear what I said?” he shouts, whipping his hand across my cheek. The slap, a strike of lightning. Stars fizzle before me as I cup my cheek, my cold palm doing little to nurse the sting.
I clench my jaw, refusing to react or make a sound. It’s exactly what he wants. To hear me whimper in pain.
“The Soviets are pushing through. They’ll be here soon. Everything needs to be burned to the ground. Everything in Auschwitz. Everything in our house. Or we’ll all be taken down.” He runs his fingers through his damp balding hair. “I know what you’re thinking. But you’re wrong. You will not be seen as a prisoner or an innocent bystander. Your blood is on the line too. You’re with me.”
I want to block out his words. Each one of them. They make my blood boil and my pulse hammer. I didn’t do anything except survive. Do what I was told. And try to find Stefan.
“You’ll help Lotte pack up the house at night and continue burning documents during the day with me,” he continues.
He swings his head toward me, flashing a vengeful glare. “You want me to slap you again, girl? Respond to me when I speak to you!”
“I heard everything,” I reply.
“Good. I had almost forgotten how stupid you could be. Beautiful, but senseless. Allowing a damn Jew to trespass into a restricted zone to—what—save you? Save you from the safest job you could have found within this entire country?”
Ice slides through my limbs, locking me down as my throat tightens. “What exactly—” He knew Stefan was here for me. He knew we were connected long before he caught me offering him “preferential treatment.”
Weyman laughs, a maniacal sound. His grip loosens around the steering wheel. “No one ever warned you that these trees have eyes? Someone is always watching. Just like they were that night you thought you’d break free from these boundaries. Knowing everything you think you know.”
A feral craze charges through my veins as I twist my head to stare at this animal. “You knew who he was to me…”
“Of course I knew. He couldn’t save you. And there’s no saving him, but—” he punches his fist against his chest, “you—you will live as long as you stay with me.”
“You forced me to watch him suffer. All while you go home to your wife and children every night acting as if you sit at a desk doing paperwork all those hours you’re gone.”
“Shut up!” he screams, foam bubbling at the corners of his mouth. He jerks the car from side to side for no other reason but to make me hit my head against the window. “Just shut up!”
“Or what? You’ll kill me like you did to him? You’ve made it so I have no one left. You aren’t taking me away from anyone. You’d be putting me out of my misery.” The words are foreign on my tongue. Words I would never dare speak before. Not to this killer.
He draws his sidearm from his right hip and whips the barrel toward my head.
I didn’t think this would be the way I’d go. I’ve fallen into step, followed every order, have lived off nothing but vague hope, all to just end up like this.
He cocks the trigger just as he pulls up in front of his house. If I reach for the door handle, he’ll shoot. If I beg him not to kill me, he will.
From the corner of my eye, I spot Hilde tear open the front door of the house and hold her hands up, waving furiously.
“I didn’t kill your Jew. I’ve been saving that for you.” The barrel steadies and I lose the ability to breathe.
Celina’s warning to cease the risks I’ve been taking echo in my head.
“Rosalie, if you’re right, and he does have an inclination about the two of you, he’ll destroy both of you without hesitation. I know you believe you are supposed to save Stefan, but it might be impossible. And that is such a thing.”
Maybe I should have listened.
