Lost in Blue

𝕱𝖚𝖊𝖓𝖋: Closer

Those past two weeks, Dorn had worked hard on establishing the foundation for trust between him and Fräulein. The policeman had made sure to drop by often, but not too frequently for it to appear suspicious, to check on her and bring her the necessities she requested, mostly food because everyone knows hospital food sucks.

One time he had pretended to forget some things in her room, mostly minor, so he could come and visit the next day again without Arzt being able to accuse him of having the intention to interrogate her behind his back. Although he was visibly displeased every time Henning paid her a visit.

The intention behind this procedure was simple. The more often they saw each other, the higher was the possibility of one of her memories triggering – how Eckert liked to phrase it – and maybe she would remember something valuable to the case.

Or she would simply let her guard down and entrust him something she might have purposefully kept from the police at first. As time went on, Dorn concluded the latter to be extremely unlikely. Her amnesia was no act of deceit, that he was sure of.

What Henning did and still would continue to do, however, could be counted as such.

Eckert's plan was built on the fact to use Fräulein's gullibility towards Henning. Getting closer to her did not have the goal to provide her stability or someone to confide in when times were dire. It targeted her solitude and identity loss, simply for the possible exchange of information.

Do not think of it as deception, Dorn, Eckert had told him upon him voicing his concerns one time, View it as a trade, an equal exchange of misdirection. We provide her with opportunities, support, safety and the chance to build a new future once we solve her mystery. In exchange, we take a little bit of hope, a little bit of trust. It's no illusion we offer her, it's a solution.

The detective became aware that brilliance borders on cruelty.

And so Dorn had to keep reminding himself, repeating his superiors words in his head, just as he sat beside her bed and watched her reactions. He observed how eagerly she turned each page with her slender fingers of the books he had brought her, how her azure orbs sparkled upon reading each word, how her mind devoured everything written on those stacked pieces of paper in a short amount of time.

Among the pieces of literature he had brought her, he had put, per her request, several history books. He figured she wouldn't be choosy about its topics, so he threw in a few writings about Germany's most critical events – and regrets- surrounding the topics of World War I as well as II and National Socialism.

And he didn't fail to notice the utter shock in her horrified facial expression as she read of the events of the last century and its cruelties. It was as if she had been told of them for the very first time in her life, despite every German elementary school teaching these crimes against humanity as early as the age of ten.

Amnesia sure does twist one's mind.

"I hope the ones I've picked are to your liking," he commented, focused on the beauty sitting in the bed in front of him.

"Yes, definitely. Vielen Dank." Eyes pinned on the amount of text printed on paper in between her fingers, Fräulein did not look up to meet his brief, amused gaze.

"And you're sure you don't need anything else?" he asked, testing her ability to multitask.

Henning contemplated whether she didn't care about fashion sense or if she got too used to the shapeless, white robes designed for patients on her skin. Maybe it was comfortable attire, which is why she still didn't ask for new clothes, despite Eckert's offer to provide her with anything she'd like.