8. Emilie

EIGHT

Dachau, Germany

As I fidget with the foil sealing the dinner plate, a deep rumble shakes the house and I grip the table for support. A startling pop follows the rumble and I collapse in front of the sink, trembling. I pull my knees into my chest and curl into a shaking ball.Even in Munich, we were far enough away from the resistance and Gestapo guarded streets. Though I’ve heard a fair share of fired shots over the last decade, none have been so close and consistent.

I pull myself up using the ledge of the sink and move across the hallway into Otto’s study where I peer out between the drape and window frame, finding only darkness. Otto is late from work again, causing me to worry. Despite my racing pulse, I try to reassure myself everything is okay but I’m not sure it is. I kneel under the desk, counting heartbeats while longing for the comfort of my parents.

“Emilie?”

I unclench my fists and climb out from beneath the desk. I straighten my dress, taking a deep breath, and make my way out to the foyer to greet Otto, thankful he’s finally here.

“Thank goodness, you’re home!” I say, running to greet him.

“I’m sorry I’m late, darling. We had a long day unfortunately.”

“Of course,” I say, swallowing against the tightness in my neck.

“You look upset. Is everything okay?”

“I’ve been listening to gunshots for the last hour. I don’t know where it could be coming from but it was terrifying to hear.”

Otto walks into the kitchen and takes a seat at the table. “Gunshots?” he questions, his eyebrows knit together into a v like shape pointing down his nose. “You know what…I think guards fire their pistols into the air if they’re struggling to get the attention of the inmates.”

“Why would they do such a thing? Is it necessary?” Wasting ammo doesn’t sound like a logical way to gain attention.

“I’m not around that area of the camp. I’m not sure. I know it’ll take a bit of time to feel familiar with the area and people. We’ll get there.”

“Yes, I suppose,” I say, pulling the foil off our dinner plates before taking a seat across from him. “Mama and Gerty paid me a surprise visit. Then Ingrid invited me over for a cup of tea.” Although something is amiss there too.

“How nice of your mother and Gerty to come by. That’s one surprise I’m sure you enjoyed,” he says with a wink. It was a nice surprise. “And tea with Ingrid sounds splendid. Her husband, Karl, is a great fellow. We get along quite well, in fact. His father got him into the field as well.” Otto rushes through his brief description of Karl to inhale a heaping bite of the chicken and dumplings.

I’ve yet to meet the man or see him leave and come home from work.

“How nice,” I say, convincing myself to smile. “Is he a real doctor?”

“No, in fact, he’s self-taught, which is quite commendable.”

I slip my fork out from between my lips and blink at him, questioning who Otto has become. Sure, we have known each other most of our lives, but something has drastically changed within him this past year.

“Well, I disagree. I don’t think it’s equally commendable. There’s a lot to be learned in a classroom setting, as well with supervised direct training. Not everything can be taught out of a book.” My heart races as the words pour out of my mouth. I’m speaking nothing but the truth and it has to be said.