“Leave her out of this.”

“Don’t act so shocked. I knew everything that went on in this camp.”

“You didn’t know I was working toward your transfer.”

A wave of anger crosses Fritzsch’s visage. “I suspected as much when the kommandant mentioned the protocol violations which caused it, and most involved you. Such a shame my relocation was immediate, otherwise I would’ve had time to address it with you prior to leaving.”

The contempt in his voice is a small satisfaction, but my victory remains a marginal one. Oskar couldn’t have lied to me. The suggestion prompts the memories, and I feel the pain starting, the slight ache that precedes the bouts of relentless, uncontrollable pounding in my head. I clamp my teeth together to fight it, but it persists.

“You said you hoped I’d located my family,” I manage at last. “You wanted me to . . .”

When the headache intensifies and steals my voice, he lifts a patronizing brow. “Do you always make such drastic inferences from simple statements?”

I close my eyes as I fight the constriction that overtakes my breaths. Control has been teasing me this entire time, darting within my reach, letting me grasp it, then breaking away again. The more I wrestle it, the more it overpowers me.

“Had you focused on your family rather than having me transferred, I never would’ve gone to Flossenbürg. Instead, you waited too long to look into your family’s deaths, and you trusted a man whose story couldn’t be disputed. I’m the only one who can refute or confirm his claims. That’s why you were determined to find me again, isn’t it?” He nods to the board to indicate it’s my turn and settles back in his chair. “If I didn’t execute your family, you’ve wasted all these years chasing the wrong man.”

Chapter 20

Auschwitz, 8 June 1942

LIFE IN AUSCHWITZ was unusual without Fritzsch. As scorching heat replaced the frigid winter, no one forced me to play chess against my will, and I no longer spent my days plotting against him or hoping he wouldn’t tire of me. Though I welcomed the respite, I was left with a void, one that wouldn’t be filled until I was free to pursue the plans I’d made to locate him.