Good luck homing pigeon

Chapter twenty eight-the miracle of the truth

It had been another three, almost four days now, and progress was gradually being made. I could see properly now, speak a little better, even sit up with Briana's help. It made feeding myself a lot easier, and being able to converse with Briana properly passed the time that seemed to be wiling away at my patience. Still, there were questions I desperately wanted to ask her, and things I thought she should finally know. She said it herself that most of the soldiers had fled Birkenau, probably Auschwitz as well. Would it be safe enough to tell her the truth? More importantly, could I trust her with the truth? Years ago, I would've confessed everything in a heartbeat. We were sisters after all, so it was deemed only natural that we confess every secret, and carry them through our hearts as long as we lived. But there was a time here we didn't consider one another sisters at all. If she did, she would've been thrown back into the barrack as quickly as she'd left. Do I? Don't I?

No. No, I had to do it. If not for her, than for myself. It was the secret I'd kept from her that played a part in her leaving-I owed it to both of us to tell her what it was. All that was left to figure out now was how to start. She was outside at the moment-either working, collecting food, or listening in for more news. According to her, almost every guard here had left their post; even the offices and the private bunkers had been left empty. I'd managed to spit out whether she'd known of the Commandant fleeing as well, but she told me even she hadn't dared to venture out that far. Though if I'd have told her that Andre worked for him, she might've taken the risk. She might still be able to.

It was a time like this when I wished I'd have known the date. Birkenau was supposed to be a prison-even worse so than an ordinary prison. But at least I had the small privilege of knowing the days of the months. Not here though. Here, all I could do was stare vacantly at the dirty, brick wall and think, think, think. I couldn't talk to myself, in case somebody outside had heard. And walking was still out of the question for me. Oh, I wished this room had a window, or some way to the outside! It was just frustrating. Being here, breathing the same damp, stale air. I knew the air outside wouldn't have been much better, but at least it was air I could feel against my skin.

"I've brought lunch," Briana announced quietly, letting herself into the room. "I thought since you could sit up now, and talk properly, I'd start trying some solid food on you. I've got the potato soup, and some bread. Not the rationed bread they feed the other prisoners. This bread...you'll like it. That, I can promise."

Now that I could see her properly, I'd noticed a sister almost identical to the woman she was before Birkenau. Tall, golden-haired, and effortlessly beautiful. Her face, though defined, was fair and rosy. Her figure slender, curved in all the right places. She was strong too-but still very gentle. She looked more like mama now than ever before. And me? I was glade there was no mirror in here. If I saw the state I was in right now, I'd sooner believe I actually was a ghost.

"Do you have any news?" I'd asked her, as I'd asked her every time she came back.

"Just one thing. The cooks from the kitchens have begun to serve what's left of the food there. The block leaders that are still here and those who have taken over for the ones gone aren't letting the prisoners out of the barrack. I've heard them saying it was too dangerous for them. And even if I've never trusted one of them, I think they're right. Even if nobody has seen a soldier walking around, that doesn't mean there aren't still soldiers here. They're hiding somewhere-but until they know where, block leader's are cautious."

"They're right to be," I replied, "The soldiers on the trucks haven't returned then?"

"No. I don't know if they ever will Kate. Something is happening, something important."

This was my chance. I had to get it out now, before she'd have to leave again.

"Briana," I began, "Can I ask you something?"