Reyna Feldman, a twenty year old Jewish girl from the tiniest of villages in France, is on the run. Captured by German soldiers while trying to escape over the border, she's taken to an internment camp in Freiburg, Germany, where she meets SS Philli...
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Happy Friday people! I was off work today so decided to sit down and give ya'll an update! Hope you enjoy! Please vote and comment if you're enjoying the story... it really helps motivate me! :)
"The Stubaf's checking officer barracks on the east side of camp, but he shouldn't be too much longer," Luca said, opening the door to Philip's study without so much as a knock. "I'm sure you can find something to read until he returns," He added with a smirk as he held the door open for her.
"Oh, that reminds me," She began, walking over to the copy of A Farewell to Arms she'd left sitting on the end table two nights ago. She'd forgotten all about her plans for it after she and Phillip had gotten to talking that night, and Luca had been given the next, Saturday night, off. Picking up the book, she walked back to Luca and held up the weathered cover for him to see, her lips turned up into an anticipatory smile.
His eyes glanced between the book and her, his brows raised in a questioning look as he waited for further explanation.
"I want you to borrow it," She explained, extending the book towards him. He took it, turning it over in his hands, his brow still cocked ever so slightly into the same look of uncertainty. "What you told me..." She pressed on, feeling the need to explain herself further. "About your father, and how you enjoyed reading?" Her explanation came out more as a question. Feeling the warmth of a blush threatening to spill into her cheeks, she looked away, fixing her eyes on the book in Luca's hands instead.
"Does the Stubaf know you're loaning out books from his library?" He asked finally. She looked up at him, the look of confusion he'd had before, replaced with his signature smirk. She returned it with one of her own.
"Actually, that book happens to be a personal copy."
"Oh," He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "My very own piece of contraband."
"Borrowed contraband," She corrected him, her smirk widening. "And yes," She added in a more serious tone. "The Stubaf does know. He just asks that you don't take it out of the house."
"I think I can manage that," He replied, thumbing through the pages.
"Well I'll see you in a few hours," She said after a long enough moment of silence had passed between them.
"See you then," He nodded, heading for the door. "Thank you, by the way," He turned to face her, holding up the book. His usual smirk had been replaced with a genuine smile.
"You're welcome," She smiled back at him.
Turning around as the door closed behind her, she walked over to her usual spot across from Phillip's desk, and settled in with the book she'd started the previous night. After reading a few pages, she looked up at the clock; ten till eight. She'd only been sitting there for maybe fifteen minutes, but she was already growing restless. The room was more quiet than usual... tooquiet. Even though she and Phillip worked and read in silence often, she at least had the hum of the record player, or the occasional scratch of Phillip's pen on paper to fill the void.
Marking her place, she sat her book down, and looked around. She'd never really stopped to take in the room she'd been spending her evenings in for weeks now, her eyes always buried deep in a book, or trained on Phillip when they talked. Her eyes moved over the floor to ceiling book shelves that lined the entire left side of the room, to the desk, stained a dark walnut, that Phillip sat behind every night. Moving to the right side of the room, she glanced over the vinyl player in the corner, the record that had played last night's music selection still sitting, motionless, on the turntable. The right side of the room was bare in contrast to the left, except for a piano that sat in the back corner. How had she never noticed it before?
Glancing over her other shoulder at the door, she stood up and walked over to it. It had been ages since she'd played... certainly before the war. She smiled as she ran her hand over the wood. Her mother had taught her how to play as a child... Some of her fondest memories had been sitting on that bench, her fingers pressing the keys as her mom operated the pedals because she'd been too short to reach them herself.
Lifting the fall board, she eyed the black and white keys. Gliding her fingers across their smooth surfaces, she pressed one of them, the soft musical note filling the once silent room.
"What are you doing?" A voice sounded from the doorway. She jumped in surprise, jerking her hand away from the keys, knocking over a picture frame that had been sitting on top of the piano as she turned to face the door.
"I-," She stammered as the glass of the frame splintered into several pieces. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" She looked up at Phillip, whose eyes were on the broken frame.
"It's fine," He shook his head. Walking over to her, he bent down and started picking up the pieces.
"Here," She began, bending down with him. "Let me hel-,"
"No," He cut her off. "Just... Let me take care of it."
She sat back on her heels and watched him as he picked up each shard of glass, wrapping them in a handkerchief he'd pulled from his pocket. Picking up the glassless frame that still held its picture, he stood up and placed it back on top of the piano.
"You're upset," She said softly, standing to her feet as well.
"It's fine," He shook his head, dumping the glass out of the handkerchief and into the waist bin beside his desk.
"I didn't mea-," She
"I said it's fine," He raised a hand to cut her off, his back still turned to her. "I have a lot of work tonight," He continued on, sitting down behind his desk. "You're more than welcome to wait downstairs until it's time for Luca to escort you back, per our arrangement."
"Phillip," She stepped towards him, unsure of what to say. He'd never been cold towards her before.
"I'll see you tomorrow," He looked up at her for the first time since the picture had broken. She met his eyes, searching them for the words he wasn't saying. He looked away, resigning himself to paperwork on his desk.
"Tomorrow then," She said finally after a long moment of silence. Hugging her arms across her chest, she turned for the door. Stealing one last look over her shoulder, she opened the door and left the room.
