All this time, I’d convinced myself Ebner wouldn’t release us, but now I’d given him a confession. Maybe there was mercy somewhere within this wicked man. I blinked away my tears and met his unsympathetic gaze while he brought the cigarette to his lips.

“I answered your questions, Herr Sturmbannführer.” The voice that came from my mouth was shaky and raw, unrecognizable as my own. “Will you send me and my family home?”

Ebner placed his cigarettes and matches on the table. “I said I’d release you if you cooperated, didn’t I?” he asked, so I nodded. Then he dipped his head toward the guards.

One grabbed my right arm, keeping me restrained, and stretched my left forearm out on the table. It happened so quickly that I didn’t have time to struggle before Ebner’s lit cigarette met my skin. Searing pain ripped a scream from my throat, but he applied more pressure before tossing it away and accepting another, which the second guard had already ignited.

“Let this be a lesson to you, Maria.” He pressed the second cigarette below the first mark and raised his voice above my cry. “You spent hours being disobedient, proving you had no regard for my generous offer.” He took a third cigarette while I writhed, but the guard held me in place, and Ebner continued the line of burns down my forearm. “Once you started behaving, it was too late. Our deal was already off.” As the fourth cigarette met my skin, I heard the guard striking another match, which made me shriek almost as much as the pain did. “You could have accepted my offer and gotten yourself and your family released, but you didn’t.” The fifth cigarette pulled a gasping sob from my lips, and Ebner lifted his eyes to mine. “You stupid girl.”

He brought the cigarette to his mouth, then the guard released me.

Five burns, five red and white circles of angry, melted flesh in a perfect line along my forearm. One for each person in my family, including myself.

As I cradled my damaged arm against my chest, the smell of my own burned flesh mingled with the stench of cigarette smoke. My stomach jolted. Yellow bile clawed up my throat and splattered against the floor.

A guard tossed something toward me, and I flinched, but the soft thump of fabric against wood announced the return of my blessed clothing. I snatched them and dressed as quickly as my aching body would allow. The buttons had popped off my shirtwaist when the guards ripped it away, but my sweater covered the ruined garment. Once dressed, I didn’t have time to wipe blood or moisture from my face before rough hands closed over my arms.

As I stumbled back to the tram, my burns throbbed. If I’d cooperated right away, my family and I could have gone home—