He replies but without looking my way. “Truth of it is, I–I gave up more than ammo, all right?” I’m hesitant to breathe as he begins pacing the floor, rubbing his temple. “From my intel, I knew that one of the underground fighters was running a scam. He’d been taking money from Jews, telling them he’d smuggle them out, but wouldn’t follow through. He was robbing these people blind, even boasting about it. Who would they complain to? The police?”

“You’re saying…you handed this man over?” I’m comprehending, not accusing, but he becomes more guarded.

“Like I said, I had to give up enough information to keep the ruse going. And it was disgusting what that lowlife was doing. He deserved prison, and that’s what he got. I just…I didn’t count on him knowing details of the big meeting.”

By the flickering candlelight, Arie moves in and out of the shadows. I watch him absently while distilling the situation, connecting how Ziegler learned of the correct location. A consequence, for sure, but unintended and seemingly unforeseeable. In all fairness, isn’t that the essence of war? It’s a constant stream of ramifications from impossible decisions, compromises, and sacrifices. Some more harrowing than others.

As it stands, if our scheme goes well, Evelien and Nel will both be freed and safe.

I want to offer Arie encouragement about clearing his name after all is set right, but his agitated movements are making me jittery. I rise and calmly catch his arm. “It’ll be fine. Once we get back, we’ll march straight to HQ and explain it.”

He stares as if I’m mad to even suggest it. “Explain what?”

“The whole story. How you tried to warn them.”

“It’s the military, for crying out loud. Won’t matter squat to them.” He gives me no chance to argue. “Listen, you wanted to help, and you did. But that’s enough. The problems are mine, not yours. Now I want you out of it.”

I heave a sigh, exasperated, though I am not about to give up. I’m reminded of the many nights in high school, back when he’d struggle through math formulas, similarly resistant to my help, as if that made him less than. “We can surely solve this together. Arie, if this is about your pride—”

“I said it’s enough,” he erupts, and my body retracts. He flicks a glance toward the window, appearing to remember that sound travels, and tempers his volume yet not his mood. “You told me you’d give your input and wouldn’t do anything else. Instead, you go and put yourself in more danger, and maybe Evelien too. But hey,” he smirks, “what was I expecting? You always do as you please, regardless of what I think or feel.”