children; he’d been tipped off to expect as much. But he’d no idea what role Rachel Kramer played. He’d expected her to be coldhearted and pretty much an ostrich, hiding her head in the sand about things that impacted anyone other than herself. He hadn’t expected that she might be in some way linked to Hitler’s nightmare.
He shoved his camera deep into his coat pocket and followed, several steps behind, to the corner.
She walked slowly. When she turned, looking lost and troubled, he knew for certain she wasn’t part of the horror he’d just witnessed, and his heart pricked for her.
“Miss Kramer?” He reached for her arm. She pulled away, staring at his hands, then up into his face, as if she didn’t know him. He stepped closer. “Rachel? Are you all right?”
Jason pulled her to the bench amid her jumble of packages and bags, some of which had been rifled and emptied. She lifted a torn brown wrapper.
“You can’t trust anybody.” He tried to make light.
But she looked up with tears in her eyes. “No. No, you can’t.”
“Do you want to tell me what happened back there?”
She slumped against the bench back.
“What did that woman say to you?”
Rachel stared straight ahead. It was getting to be a habit with her. Jason thought that if he waved his hand in front of her face now, she might not notice.
“She said that the children have gone for treatment—what each one needs, what the doctor thinks each one needs.”
“Did she say when they’re coming back?”
Tears welled in her eyes and fell down her cheeks, making her look vulnerable, almost childlike. She shook her head slowly, finally whispering, “I don’t think they’re coming back.”
She knows—but how? “Is this part of your father’s research?”
She looked at him, her eyes regaining focus. “What?”
“You know what they’re doing in the van, don’t you? Did your father tell you?”
She cringed. “He’s got nothing to do with that! He works to make the world a better place, not—not that!”
He leaned closer, wishing he could shield her, knowing he mustn’t. “This is where eugenics leads, Miss Kramer. This has been the end goal all along—to rid the world of the disabled, the elderly, the politically expendable, and any race or group of people Hitler deems unacceptable.”
“No,” she nearly whimpered. “It’s not the same.”
Jason sat back, and though he wanted to shake her into reality, he also pitied her. “If you believe that, you’ve bought into the lie. There’s nothing I can do to help you if you won’t open your eyes.” He pulled a card from his coat pocket. “Here’s my number. Call me anytime, day or night, if you want to talk. They’ll know where to find me.” He hesitated. “Let me walk you back to your hotel. Tonight’s the first blackout. You don’t want to be out alone.”
“No, thank you. It’s not far. I can manage very well.”
“That’s not a good idea, Miss Kra—”
“I can manage!”
He stood, rebuked but undecided. He hated leaving her there distraught, especially with the gathering dusk and impending blackout. But she was arrogant, even in her misery. He’d have to wait around the corner, follow her, make sure she made it safely back.
He knew she was thoroughly frightened. Yet he also knew that she and the whole world needed to be terrified. There was no other way to wake them up, to force their hands.
7
S UNDAY DAWNED CLEAR AND SUNNY , a perfect late-summer morning caressed in breezes—the kind of day meant for boating on the Spree or picnics and ambling along the Tiergarten’s shaded pathways.
But Rachel had not left the hotel since she’d returned from her ordeal Friday night with the van and Jason Young. Traipsing back to her hotel in the darkness, hearing footsteps echo off the pavement around her but unable to see anyone in the blackout, hearing hushed whispers—every whispered voice equally afraid—had been more than enough of Berlin for
He shoved his camera deep into his coat pocket and followed, several steps behind, to the corner.
She walked slowly. When she turned, looking lost and troubled, he knew for certain she wasn’t part of the horror he’d just witnessed, and his heart pricked for her.
“Miss Kramer?” He reached for her arm. She pulled away, staring at his hands, then up into his face, as if she didn’t know him. He stepped closer. “Rachel? Are you all right?”
Jason pulled her to the bench amid her jumble of packages and bags, some of which had been rifled and emptied. She lifted a torn brown wrapper.
“You can’t trust anybody.” He tried to make light.
But she looked up with tears in her eyes. “No. No, you can’t.”
“Do you want to tell me what happened back there?”
She slumped against the bench back.
“What did that woman say to you?”
Rachel stared straight ahead. It was getting to be a habit with her. Jason thought that if he waved his hand in front of her face now, she might not notice.
“She said that the children have gone for treatment—what each one needs, what the doctor thinks each one needs.”
“Did she say when they’re coming back?”
Tears welled in her eyes and fell down her cheeks, making her look vulnerable, almost childlike. She shook her head slowly, finally whispering, “I don’t think they’re coming back.”
She knows—but how? “Is this part of your father’s research?”
She looked at him, her eyes regaining focus. “What?”
“You know what they’re doing in the van, don’t you? Did your father tell you?”
She cringed. “He’s got nothing to do with that! He works to make the world a better place, not—not that!”
He leaned closer, wishing he could shield her, knowing he mustn’t. “This is where eugenics leads, Miss Kramer. This has been the end goal all along—to rid the world of the disabled, the elderly, the politically expendable, and any race or group of people Hitler deems unacceptable.”
“No,” she nearly whimpered. “It’s not the same.”
Jason sat back, and though he wanted to shake her into reality, he also pitied her. “If you believe that, you’ve bought into the lie. There’s nothing I can do to help you if you won’t open your eyes.” He pulled a card from his coat pocket. “Here’s my number. Call me anytime, day or night, if you want to talk. They’ll know where to find me.” He hesitated. “Let me walk you back to your hotel. Tonight’s the first blackout. You don’t want to be out alone.”
“No, thank you. It’s not far. I can manage very well.”
“That’s not a good idea, Miss Kra—”
“I can manage!”
He stood, rebuked but undecided. He hated leaving her there distraught, especially with the gathering dusk and impending blackout. But she was arrogant, even in her misery. He’d have to wait around the corner, follow her, make sure she made it safely back.
He knew she was thoroughly frightened. Yet he also knew that she and the whole world needed to be terrified. There was no other way to wake them up, to force their hands.
7
S UNDAY DAWNED CLEAR AND SUNNY , a perfect late-summer morning caressed in breezes—the kind of day meant for boating on the Spree or picnics and ambling along the Tiergarten’s shaded pathways.
But Rachel had not left the hotel since she’d returned from her ordeal Friday night with the van and Jason Young. Traipsing back to her hotel in the darkness, hearing footsteps echo off the pavement around her but unable to see anyone in the blackout, hearing hushed whispers—every whispered voice equally afraid—had been more than enough of Berlin for
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