I refrain only briefly before hazarding a look past him. Arie is just outside the hospital entrance, back in his dark suit and hat, though without his overcoat. Assuming he wore it going in, either he forgot it or discarded it while rushing, a potential sign things didn’t go smoothly.

But no, he’s acting as planned, presenting a pack of cigarettes to the armed guard. The rationed tobacco is highly coveted next to the usual homegrown sort. When the guard reaches out, Arie purposely drops and spills the open box.

My deliberate fumble with the cards crashes back at me. I fear a similar disaster as Arie kneels with the soldier to collect the cigarettes, but right on cue, the door opens and a nurse walks past. When the guard glances up, Arie corrals the guy’s focus onto their task.

Beside me, the cousin’s murmurs—“Hurry up, go faster”—confirm the woman moving toward us is Nel, though I could gather as much from her steps. Stiff and wobbly, they resemble those of a person attempting a sober facade. Or, in this case, recovering from a head injury after weeks of confinement in a bed. The closer she gets, the more unstable she appears, and the faster my heart thrums.

If she collapses, even stumbles onto the cobblestones, what would we do?

Her cousin lifts his pistol to midchest. He seems to be gearing up for those very scenarios. Holding off the guard, however, would leave Arie stuck between.

Don’t fall, Nel. Whatever you do, don’t fall.

She has fewer than fifteen feet to go. A lock of dark hair slips from her nurse’s cap as she trudges toward us.

Ten feet…

Five…

One…

The instant she rounds the corner, the cousin grabs hold of her, keeping her upright. She greets him with a weary smile, her face strikingly similar to typical mothers at the market, on the buses and trams, unsuspecting. Then I spot Arie starting our way, and a small burst of hope tunnels through my apprehension. How I wish he could break into a sprint without attracting notice.

In recalling my role, I gauge the street behind me. Still empty, both ways.

When I turn back around, Nel is leaning against the wall. Her cousin, no longer supporting her, has raised his pistol again. Finger on the trigger, he’s readying to aim around the corner toward the guard.

Or is the target Arie? There’s no way to know until he shoots.

The debate clashes in my head. If I delay intervening, I could be too late.

“Halt!”

My eyes dart toward the voice. It’s the guard—except now there are two, and they’re clutching their rifles. In the doorway, a man in a white coat is gesturing frantically. A doctor has discovered the swap.

Arie freezes with hands up, his back to the soldiers. Shock traps my breath as they proceed to advance on him.