Before Our Dawn| ongoing

thirty-three

Chapitre trente-trois
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"I heard about what happened."

Hans came around the sofa, taking a seat next to her. "About what?"

Isra rested her back against the armrest and draped her legs across his lap. "That a German officer was shot today."

"Oh, yes. That. I'm afraid everyone's panicking now." His expression was blank and unreadable. "The tension has been building for some time now. It was those filthy communists. It had to be."

She looked toward the window, spotting the Eiffel Tower and the horrid flags hanging from the metal structure. "Are communists really all that bad?"

Isra's question floated in the air, and for the first time, Hans's usually composed demeanor seemed to fracture. His countenance turned stern, and just there, beneath the softness of his features, was a type of soldier she had never witnessed before.

"Communism is not just bad, Isra," Hans began, his tone resolute, leaving no holes for her to point at or threads to unravel. "It's evil, a threat to everything we hold dear, and a poison that's spreading like wildfire. It's not just a problem for Germany but for the entire world. These communists want to tear down the very fabric of our society, to abolish the rights of the individual, and replace them with a monstrous, soulless, collective force. They're the embodiment of chaos and destruction. Their ideology is rooted in envy and resentment, promoting class warfare and seizing what others have earned through hard work. It's a recipe for tyranny and oppression, disguised as a utopian dream. And what's worse, it's backed by ruthless leaders who will stop at nothing to spread their ideology, even if it means violence and terror."

She returned her gaze to Hans, reluctant to test the boundaries of a discussion that was rapidly spiraling out of control. "But communists are people, and perhaps they just want a world that is more just," she offered, her voice soft. "That doesn't sound very evil to me."

Hans's reaction was swift and severe, and he turned to her, his tone sharp and incredulous. "Do you have any idea what these people stand for, Isra?" His anger erupted. "You can't be so naive as to think they're just misguided idealists. They are proponents of an ideology that reeks of destruction."

She recoiled under the intensity of his response, his fury and disappointment startling her into silence.

The room felt too hot. He looked much bigger. Much stronger. There was hardly any space between them and she thought that she might suffocate, his blue eyes drilling into her with a fiery determination. "Are you defending them?"

Isra quickly shook her head. "No, Hans, I'm not defending them."

He pressed further. "Do you know any communists, Isra? Are you friends with them?"

She faltered, trapped between honesty and fear. Colette, Jacques, Gabriel, Emil, and Lea. She couldn't betray them, not over something as trivial as this. But Hans looked dangerous, and it appeared that he would be able to sniff out the lie even before it crossed her lips.

"I... I've met people who sympathize with their ideas."

The moment she spoke those words, everything about him became even more severe. He stared at her with those piercing eyes, his hand holding onto her arm, but as the seconds passed, his fingertips dug into her flesh, hard enough to bruise.

In a tense, low voice, he asked, "Are you a communist, Isra?"

She shook her head, tears of frustration and sadness pooling in her eyes. "No, Hans, I'm not."