The year is 1942 and Europe is at the height of World War Two. Mila Goldstein, a Dutch Jew living in occupied Holland, has signed on as an informant for the British Secret Intelligence Service (SIS). However, days before her assignment, a wounded Ge...
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The new chapter is FINALLY up!! I've been trying to get this written for you guys for the longest time! Let me know what you thinks! Thank y'all for being so patient. <3
"Get up." Mila was roused from the sleep that had finally managed to overtake her, her eyes blinking into focus as they fluttered open. The springs creaked underneath her as she rolled over on the thin mattress she'd curled up on, still dazed and confused from being woken so suddenly. Her entire body ached, every muscle throbbing from the various beatings she'd endured over the last thirty-six hours.
Wiping away the black crust her mascara had left underneath her eyes, she looked down at the smudges on the backs of her hands. She didn't need a mirror to know she looked awful. She was still wearing the clothes she'd had on nearly two days prior, and the little makeup that hadn't been cried off, was streaked down her face. She winced as she pushed herself into a sitting position, her stiff muscles coming back to life. S.S. Wagner was standing over her, his arms crossed impatiently.
"Come on, let's go," He said, grabbing her arm and pulling her to her feet.
"Where are we going?" She asked, though she didn't object as he pulled her towards the door.
"Someone wants to see you," He replied indifferently.
"Who?"
"You're quite inquisitive this morning," He said with exasperated sarcasm. "You'll see," He added, before she could ask any more followup questions. She followed along in silence as S.S. Wagner led her down the corridor, stumbling every few steps as she tried to keep up with his quick pace. His tight grip on her arm held her steady as they continued down the hallway until they reached a familiar door. It was the room she'd been put in when she'd first arrived. Opening the door, S.S. Wagner pulled her inside.
"Here she is sir," He said, the door closing behind them. Her blood ran cold as she followed S.S. Wagner's gaze to a man seated at the table. Heinrich Muller.
"Thank you S.S. Wagner," Mr. Muller smiled pleasantly, giving him a nod of thanks. S.S. Wagner nodded back before turning for the door and leaving.
"Hello Ms. Goldstein," He greeted her once they were alone. Please, sit," He gestured to the chair across the table from him.
"I'd rather not," She said coldly.
"My apologies," He began, his pleasant demeanor never wavering. "I see you mistook my politeness as suggestion ... It wasn't. Have a seat," His smile faded as he gestured to the chair again. Reluctantly, she crossed the room and pulled the chair out from the table without taking her eyes off him. "We're both well aware of the predicament you find yourself in," He began once she was seated. "And I hear you've been making it harder on yourself with your defiance. This could all be quite easy ... If you tell us what we want to know."
