the law of attraction | reus + lewandowski

ELEVEN

October, 1943

—

For a month, there was an odd balance that had settled in Marco's house. That, or everyone had just decided to mind their own affairs. I didn't care about the things that Marco and Elena were doing because I was always thinking about myself and Robert, and they didn't care about me and Robert because they didn't suspect that anything serious was going on.

In this time, Elena and I learned to become friends. We realized that disliking each other didn't help us much; especially when the last thing we needed to do was be against each other when everyone else was against us as well.

We didn't talk about Marco or Robert, but we talked about other things. She told me about Dortmund, where she lived before the war. I learned that she had known Marco even before being his housemaid, as she'd once been a waitress at a restaurant he frequented. It was pure coincidence that they'd ended up in this position, but I found it sadly comical that she'd been serving him even before the war began.

After managing to sneak out of the camp on the night of Robert's birthday, I often dreamt about being able to do it again. Rarely was Marco ever absent from the house for long amounts of time though, and I knew that I could probably never actually leave the camp again.

The closer I began to grow to Robert, the more I distant I grew from Marco. I didn't like his apathy and his cold heartedness, I didn't like him for being a hypocrite and lying to his SS colleagues while he spent nearly every night romping with Elena. I hated him for continuing to invite Mats Hummels over to his house knowing that he was the man who had raped me. But could I say I was surprised? He'd been nice to me when I let him have his way with my body; now that I ignored him, he treated me with the same behavior as before.

I was scrubbing a stain in the bathtub upstairs and singing a Hebrew song to myself, feeling neither contented nor upset with how the day had been going so far. Marco had his guests downstairs, per usual; I hadn't seen them with my own eyes, but I knew Robert was there, and wished I could be alone with him.

I stopped humming as the door to the bathroom opened, but continued to hum with the realization that it was likely just Robert. My suspicion seemed confirmed when I felt his warm hands on my shoulders, then slowly moving their way up to caress my cheek. I smiled and shrugged them off before speaking, still scrubbing at the stain. "What are you doing? You should get back downstairs."

After a few moments of silence, I felt my smile fall. I turned back around and stared at the man—who was not Robert, but Herr Hummels—before gasping and dropping the brush. Quickly I shot up, petrified. He, too, stood up before covering my mouth with his hand. "Don't bother," he muttered. "No one is going to help you."

I let out a frustrated scream against his muffling hand before I bit it, listening to him yelp as he yanked it away. "Drecksau! What's wrong with you?"

I sneered. "Don't touch me!"

He grabbed my arm before smirking, lecherously. "I knew you were feisty, but now you're outright brave, aren't you? It's as if you think you can somehow... intimidate me." The officer stared at me with eyes filled with ill intention. Though I was more afraid than anything, especially given what he had once done to me, I also felt an undying desire to avenge his crime.

I yanked my arm out of his hold before I brushed past him and pulled open the door to the bathroom. He grabbed my arm again, but it was too late—Marco stood out there, and I let out a breath of relief as he stared at his comrade and then me. "What's going on here?"