Fritzsch had told me once that, when he was a boy, his family had moved too much for him to receive a consistent education, but he had learned to play chess. Perhaps he sought to prove that my upbringing made me no better at this game than he, did me no good in this place where I held no power and he held all.

The morning air turned noxious, the silence tight, cutting into me, slicing my breaths into short tremors. As he applied more pressure to the gun, he assessed me as he had after my arrival, as though confirming his initial impression. Unfit.

Then he removed the pistol.

Sometimes there were such consequences—hours of unceasing gameplay until I had won enough to satisfy him, a bullet through my opponent’s skull. Other times nothing happened. Fritzsch wrote the rules however he pleased, but the most important rule remained unchanged: one game would eventually be my last.

I closed my hand into a fist to bury the memory. After Fritzsch indicated that I should get up, the guards cleared the chessboard, table, and chairs before dispersing for roll call. While he smoked, I stifled a yawn. The workday hadn’t begun, but I already wished it was over.

“Did you know Kommandant Höss plays chess? I suggested he challenge you to a match.” Fritzsch flicked ashes from his cigarette as he strolled back and forth. “He hasn’t done so yet, has he? Perhaps it’s because he’s unhappy I let you live.”

The morning was silent aside from the distant tramp of boots as the guards prepared to rouse the prisoners. A light breeze carried a steady stream of Fritzsch’s cigarette smoke over me, and I held my breath against it.

He paused before me, but I knew better than to look at him. “I assured the kommandant my decision was best for the Reich. You’re beneficial for both the guards and the prisoners. The guards enjoy seeing how you fare against the men, and everyone enjoys your chess games. Public entertainment has a way of boosting morale—until the onlookers get bored. Then it becomes useless.”

When he fell silent, I didn’t know if I should answer or if he simply wanted me to be aware that my sole purpose was to provide amusement. I knew better than to speak out of turn, so I waited and hoped it was the right choice.

“It’s been almost three weeks since you arrived, Prisoner 16671. We’ll see how long you can entertain us.”

If the suggestion of my impending death was supposed to frighten me, Fritzsch should have been disappointed. Death didn’t scare me nearly as much as the idea of spending another moment in Auschwitz did.