فصل 95

joana

I held the small bundle next to Emilia, hoping she would make eye contact with the child. The new physician, Dr. Wendt, appeared.

“Joana, a sailor is around the corner asking for you. He seems . . . eager.”

I walked out. Alfred again. He grinned and waved me forward. “Follow me.”

Didn’t he have work to do? “Alfred, I can’t. I’m very busy.”

“Come along. Come along.”

I felt sorry for Alfred. I had known boys like him in school—desperate to be a man, yet trapped in his own mind. Girls joked that boys like Alfred made a cow’s milk dry up.

Alfred stopped at the infirmary and made a grand gesture with his arm. “Ask and you shall receive.”

My stomach gave a little hop. Sitting on a cot in the corner was Florian. Near his feet sat my suitcase. I tried to mask my excitement at seeing him. “My suitcase. Thank you, Florian.”

Alfred looked at me and raised his eyebrows. “And?”

“And thank you, Alfred,” I said.

Alfred paused, eyebrows arched, staring at me.

Florian nodded to him in quiet dismissal. “Thanks again.”

“Right, yes,” said Alfred. “Must get back to work. I’m very busy.” He walked off.

I made my way over to the corner, through the rows of wounded soldiers. “You made it,” I said. I could feel myself smiling.

“Almost didn’t. There’s a Nazi on the dock who doesn’t like me much.”

“And you brought my suitcase. So you found Eva? What about Poet and the boy?”

“They’re on board. Eva’s on the Hansa. She said to tell you good-bye.” He shifted to look at my face, then reached out and touched my arm. “You okay?”

I nodded.

“Can you take these stitches out?”

I walked over to a table to retrieve the necessary instruments. I was sad to hear about Eva. We weren’t given a chance to say good-bye properly.

I returned and Florian began unbuttoning his shirt. The dried blood on his skin now resembled powdered dirt. “Do you have any other clothes?” I asked.

“Are you saying my wardrobe is lacking?”

I smiled. “Very funny. Lie down.” I sighed.

“That was a big sigh. What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Emilia had the baby.”

“The baby didn’t make it?” He seemed genuinely upset.

“The baby’s fine.” I shook my head. “But Emilia isn’t.”

“What happened?” he asked.

I began removing the stitches. What could I tell him? How much would he even understand? He stared at me. Was he waiting for the story or just looking at me? I took a breath.

“There is no boyfriend,” I whispered. “The family she was staying with gave her to the Russians to save their daughter. The boyfriend was a story she made up to continue on. She won’t really look at the baby yet.”

His face changed. Sincerity and sadness erased the bravado. “That kid. She’s a warrior.”

“Yes, but fighting who?”

He looked at me, surprised. “Everyone. Everything. Fighting fate.”

“Now I understand. She clings to you because you saved her from the Russian in the forest. You’re proof that there are still good men in the world.”

“Stop. Don’t say those things.” He stared at the wall.

I pulled the last of the stitches from his muscular torso.

“How long until we sail?” he asked.

“They say we’ll leave soon.”

“I need to find somewhere out of sight,” he whispered. “Do you know of a place?”

He had boarded, but now he wanted to hide?

I shook my head. “I don’t know the ship well yet. I’m constantly getting lost.” I watched him button his shirt. “Florian, will you do something for me? Will you come say hello to Emilia? Please? It would really lift her spirits.”