The bastard stands by the wooden shelter booth, and he looks no different than I remember. Hardly taller than I, slight and unimpressive. He’s in his SS uniform, crisp and pressed even in the rain, jackboots shiny despite a few splatters of mud. His pistol hangs at his side. And his beady eyes lock upon me when I halt a few meters away.

“Prisoner 16671,” Fritzsch says. “I prefer you in stripes.”

Despite the many times I’ve been addressed by that sequence, the way he says one-six-six-seven-one steals my voice. I brush my thumb over the tattoo along my forearm, such a sharp contrast to my pale skin, and pass over the five round scars above the tattoo. The simple gesture coaxes my tongue into forming words.

“My name is Maria Florkowska.”

He chuckles. “You still haven’t learned to control that mouth of yours, have you, Polack?”

The endgame has begun. My wits are my king, pain my queen, the gun my rook, and I am the pawn. My pieces are in place on this giant chessboard. White pawn faces black king.

Fritzsch beckons me with a jerk of his head and indicates the small table set up in the middle of the square. I’d recognize the checkered board and its pieces anywhere. Our footsteps against the gravel are the only sound until I prepare to sit behind the white pieces; then his voice stops me.

“Have you forgotten the terms of our arrangement? If you’re going to bore me, I see no need for a final game.”

As he moves to block my path, one hand rests on his pistol, and I take a slow breath. Somehow I feel like the girl surrounded by men in this roll-call square, all eyes on her while she engages in chess games against the man who would lodge a bullet in her skull just as soon as place her in checkmate.

The silence hangs heavy between us until I manage to break it. “What should I do?”

A hum of approval rumbles in his throat; I loathe myself for putting it there. “Compliance serves you far better than impertinence,” he says, and I watch his feet as he steps closer. “Other side.”

He’s taking my white pieces and my first-move advantage as easily as he took everything else from me. But I don’t need an advantage to defeat him.

I move to the opposite side of the board and study the water droplets glistening on the black pieces. Fritzsch will open with the Queen’s Gambit. I know he will, because it’s my favorite opening. He’ll be sure to take that, too.