The captain had suggested to Ettie that they go back to his house. The Jew’s house where the gardens were in ruins and there were still piles of ash from all of the books he had burned. He told her she’d never been in a house like it and would be stunned by its beauty when he led her up to the bedroom where there were silk sheets. She convinced him to pull into a field. Why should they wait? For weeks, Victor had been teaching her to flirt, and she understood she must keep a smile on her face, even though she knew the captain had been responsible for forty souls that had been deported to Auschwitz. Victor had been funny and charming as he pretended to be a girl seducing an old man. You’re so handsome, he had crooned about their ugly, old target. I’m so lucky I met you. Come closer. Closer. They’d laughed over it, but now she felt sick to her stomach again.

As soon as they pulled off the road, the captain kissed her. She thought about the way she’d run when she’d left her sister behind. She had forced herself to go forward, even though it had become impossible to spy Marta when she looked back. Just the hem of her dress, her boots, her newly cut hair. Ettie twisted away now so she could whisper in the captain’s ear. Turn the car off, we will be here for a while. This was her reason to be alive, this was the reason she’d run into the woods.

By then Victor had crept near. The ignition was turned off, and as soon as the tailpipe cooled, he shoved the bomb in. His hands were dusted with gunpowder. This was it, the moment they had planned for.

The captain was pulling down her dress. He kissed her roughly as he ran his hands over her. He had her now, she belonged to him, but she didn’t feel any of it. She thought about the doctor’s guest room, where everything was in its proper place. A comb and brush on the bureau, a glass of water on the night table, a silk rug on the floor. She thought of his kindness when he leaned down to speak to his patients, the way he stood at the door and looked into the dark, the way he kissed her, as if she were precious, as if she might break.

“Wait,” Ettie told the captain. She smiled of course, as she’d been taught to do. “I have to get ready.” She wanted to step out to relieve herself. He told her to hurry, and she said she would. She wished she could stay and look into his eyes as he was dying, but that wasn’t the plan.

“I will,” she promised.