𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞; eugene roe ✔

PART TWENTY ONE

"Maybe they had the wrong address." Ida supplied, fiddling with the hem of her glove.

"No..." I picked up another piece of parchment, something ripped from a notebook, "I don't think so."

"What is it?" Emilia probed eagerly, adoring this type of game.

I held it out in front of me, allowing those who were interested to read it for themselves.

"Room Eleven?" Petra read aloud. "Meaning?"

I rolled my eyes but not out of irritation, "More importantly, I think we are playing some sort of hunt."

"Why would you say that?"

"It's German. Room Eleven is what it says on the door so it is easy to write that down. But who else would write this?" I flipped the paper.

Ich bitte euch ratet mir was besser ist... reden oder sterben, it said. I beg you tell me which is better... to speak or die? Is it better to speak or to die?

"Heptameron." Metilda fulfilled. "With the knight and the princess."

Emilia furrowed her brows, "So what do we do?"

"We go to Room Eleven." I shrugged, stuffing the note in my skirt pocket.

They all watched me as I opened the door on the left side of the back wall, petrified that we were in a fairytale - like Heptameron - and somehow we'd all spontaneously die the second we crossed the threshold. Luckily, we didn't, and one after the other, strolled down the corridor to the very end, to the door labelled Room Eleven. A joke was made, rendering an eruption of chuckles and Emilia shushed the girls swiftly, an inclination deep inside to stick to quietude.

Stopping at the door, "Any last words?"

Each person beamed back at me, Emilia saying, "All yours, Valentina."

I pushed open the wooden panel. The light of the hallway poured into the room, revealing only a small picture of luminosity onto the floor. Slick and clean, made for dancing, it shone back.

Click. 

One, two, three. The lamps flickered on.

The starting buzz of a gramophone laced the room. Then, quiet at first, the song started, simultaneous with the last ceiling lamp. My jaw dropped.

Towards the rear of the chamber stood - what I gathered to be - Easy Company, the faces all similar from earlier that day. They were organisted into curved lines, arranged into height order. Someone stepped forward.

Correction, Liebgott stepped forward.

"All or nothing at all," He sang along. "Half a love, never appealed to me."

I glanced between the men, regarding each and every expression. All smiles, all dressed in their parade uniforms.

"If your heart, never could yield to me," He made eye contact with something past me. "Then I'd rather have nothing at all."

Cheeks red and almost hurting from grinning, I looked to where he had, finding Eugene leaning against the wall. At the same time, he found my stare and smiled warmly. He had been tasked with turning on the lights at the right time, it seemed.

Altogether, the men sang, continuing on the next verse. Despite how not one of the girls knew English, they still effervesced over the ordeal. Liebgott had most likely only expected me but showed no displeasure to the presence of the others.