Did they all ask themselves these questions the first time? If he just knew that, he could get on with it.

Could he ask the others?

‘What are you waiting for?’ Rolf asked from somewhere behind him. ‘It’s only a Jew.’

No. He couldn’t ask. He had to do it.

Rolf was right. Only a Jew. He could do this. He braced himself.

And then…

‘Max?’

The prisoner spoke.

The word jolted him like a shot of electricity through his body.

It didn’t make sense. This bald, filthy, barely standing, twig-thin prisoner knew his name? It wasn’t possible.

And yet…

The voice was familiar. It felt like an itch, way below the surface of Max’s skin. A treasure long buried and lost for thousands of years.

‘Come on, Max,’ Rolf urged. He was starting to sound impatient. ‘We haven’t got all day. Karl wants to get home for dinner, remember.’

Max wiped his forehead. It was wet with sweat, despite the cold. He took a sharp breath and lifted the pistol. This Jew didn’t know him. He was imagining things.

He curled his finger around the trigger. Took aim.

And then she smiled at him.

And even though it was years since he’d seen that smile, even though this prisoner in front of him was unrecognizable from the girl he had played with in Vienna, Max knew her smile like he knew himself. It was like a ray of sunlight breaking through clouds. He wanted to give in to it, sink into it, climb it all the way to the warmth of the sun.

‘What are you waiting for?’ The guards were shouting now.

Still he held the gun, his finger tight on the trigger, his hand shaking.

Still she held his eyes, pinning him to the spot while the world around them froze.

‘Come ON!’ The guards were still shouting, somewhere on the other side of all of this. Angry now. ‘DO IT!’

Max’s hand shook so much he thought he might drop the gun. Just squeeze the trigger, just do it.

But her face was still there in front of him. The face of a girl who had once been the best friend in the world to an innocent young boy called Max. He had once childishly believed he would marry this girl.

Max’s chest throbbed with the thought of what might have been; the life he could have led.

Such a different life.

All Max had ever wanted was to fit in. But this? This had never been part of it. Or had it? Underneath everything, had he always known deep down inside that this was where his desire to fit in was going to lead him?

And did it matter either way? The truth was, he had chosen this life as much as it had chosen him, and now he was here, surely there was no turning back.