I didn’t know why the simple home overwhelmed me and brought tears to my eyes. Thankfully, crying was appropriate for my part in our charade. As Frau Meinhart indicated two empty chairs, I swallowed my tears and prepared to sit, but Irena held me back. She kept me at arm’s length, as though too repulsed to come nearer.

“Where do you think you’re going, you filthy creature? You’re not doing anything until you’ve scrubbed every bit of grime from your body.”

I could have kissed her on both cheeks.

Herr Meinhart placed two wooden tubs before the fireplace—one for me, a smaller one with a washboard for my uniform—then fetched water from the well, which Frau Meinhart heated over the stove. Once finished, they disappeared into the back of the house, allowing me privacy while Irena made as if to stand guard; instead she sat at the table with her back to me. Even in the camp, she had always managed to avoid seeing me without my uniform on. Perhaps she didn’t want me to feel as if I were being inspected; perhaps she doubted her ability to bear what lay underneath.

I disinfected my uniform first, killing every insect and using the washboard to lift away layers of filth. By the time I finished, the garment remained dingy and stained, but it looked a bit better. I hung it over the edge of the tub to dry, close to the fire’s warmth.

The wooden floor was cold beneath my bare feet as I moved to the larger tub, then stepped into the hot water. With a bar of soap—an entire bar of real soap—I cleaned myself and scrubbed my shorn head, inhaling the soap’s faint yet sweet scent of apple blossoms. It was a sensation I hadn’t felt in so many years: clean.

Once finished, I dried off with a soft white towel and donned my uniform—still damp, but the house was warm enough. When Irena joined me and saw the sudden tears in my eyes, a soft smile played on her lips.

Then, sighing, she lifted her gun to my back before summoning the couple. Herr Meinhart carried the tubs outside while Frau Meinhart reheated dinner. Irena led me to my chair. I sat straight, breaths shaky, tensing when she pressed the gun more firmly between my shoulder blades.

“Behave yourself.”

“Yes, Frau Aufseherin,” I whispered, then heaved a small sigh when she released me and removed the gun.