Schwester Marta barreled into the break room just as Allina settled down with her morning mug of tea.
“Rilla’s waters just broke,” Marta said. “She’s asking for you, so I’ll cover your duties for the rest of the day. The poor thing is still hours away from delivery. She’s scared. Please come.”
Allina sprinted down the hall to the birthing rooms. Rilla’s eyes were wide and her nightgown was soaked with sweat, but she smiled when Allina perched on the edge of the bed.
“I’m here,” she said, and took her friend’s hand. Rilla held on for hours, through contractions and stories and silly songs they crooned together, until Allina’s fingers went numb.
As the labor progressed, Rilla began calling out for her mother in a broken voice that made Allina’s heart ache. “I’m going to die,” she sobbed. “Tell my parents I’m sorry.”
“Nonsense,” Allina said, pressing a cold compress to her forehead. “The pain is normal. Try to relax between contractions. Your body knows what to do.”
The labor went on too long, and Schwester Ziegler shooed Allina out of the delivery area sometime after midnight. She went to her room but didn’t manage a wink of sleep.
Rilla’s baby arrived shortly after 5:00 a.m. the next morning. Ziegler herself knocked on Allina’s sleeping room door to invite her to see mother and child. She was first, at Rilla’s insistence, to see the perfect baby boy.
Cradling the newborn in the crook of her arm, Allina gave her friend’s shoulder a gentle shake. “Rilla,” she whispered. “Your son is hungry.”
Rilla came awake with a frown, but the sight of her child brought a radiant smile to her face. “What time is it?” She reached eagerly for her baby. “How did you manage to sneak Tobias into my room?”
“It’s half past two.” Burying her nose against the baby’s neck, Allina inhaled his sweet fresh scent. “Schwester Ziegler had too much wine last night. She’s snoring away like an old goat.” Allina grinned and laid the baby in his mother’s arms. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I thought you’d enjoy the extra time with him.”
Rilla undid her nightshirt and pulled her son to her breast. The moment Tobias began to suckle, she leaned back with a deep sigh of contentment. “He’s two days old, and I’m overwhelmed with love,” she murmured, eyes fluttering closed. “I didn’t know this kind of love existed.” She caressed her baby’s scalp and planted a soft kiss on his forehead.
And, just like that, you’re a mother, Rilla.
“He’s beautiful,” Allina whispered as the tears built behind her eyes. “You’re going to be the best mama.” Pulling a chair over, she wiped her eyes and sat with Rilla while Tobias’s hungry suckling filled the silence.
Rilla looked at her curiously. “Don’t be sad. You’re still young. There’s plenty of time to have babies of your own.”
“God, no.” The thought of having a baby made her want to throw up.
“You don’t want children?” Rilla asked softly. “But you’re so good with them.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Rilla grabbed Allina’s hand and held on, not allowing her to back away. “What happened to you before you came here? I may be younger than you, but I’m not a fool. Your nightmares haven’t stopped. You go white as milk when Schwester Ziegler mentions Gud’s name, and you’re skittish around the soldiers. Please tell me.”
“I can’t.” Allina shuddered.
Rilla averted her eyes. “All right.”
It was easy to see she’d hurt her friend, but there was no help for it, so Allina changed the topic. “He’s nearly done. Will you be able to sleep?” She ran her hand down Tobias’s back.
“I hope so.” Rilla sighed, then gestured at the short stack of postcards on the bedside table. “Maybe I’ll write my parents instead. I’ve been putting that off.”
“How long has it been?”
“Six months,” Rilla said in a small voice. “My family are strict Catholics. Very old-fashioned.” Rilla’s eyes closed as she continued to cuddle her baby. “They wanted to send me to relatives in Berlin. My aunt promised to raise the baby as her own.”
“I see.”
Rilla swallowed hard. “We didn’t part well. They were furious when Steffen found a place for me here. I left with my clothes, not much else.” Tobias’s head listed to the side, and Rilla kissed her son’s head. “But we’ll be fine, won’t we,” she whispered before handing him back.
Rilla grabbed Allina’s arm before she could go. “You won’t tell anyone about my parents, will you? Schwester Ziegler knows we’re Catholic, but you don’t need to remind her.”
“I won’t tell a soul, Rilla. Your secret’s safe with me.”
“I’d keep your secrets safe, too, you know.”
But Allina’s secrets were too heavy a burden, ones that might put Rilla and her baby in danger. And if Rilla betrayed her … No, she couldn’t bear it. She was safer alone.
“Allina, wake up. Please. I need your help!”
She roused to the anxious, cobalt gaze of Schwester Wendeline, who stood at the side of her bed.
Allina rubbed her eyes, trying to clear away the sleep fog. “What time is it?”
“A little after seven.” When Allina groaned, she added, “I know your shift ended an hour ago, but Marta and Ida-Lynne are both ill. And Schwester Ziegler is … indisposed.” One of the sweeter nurses on staff, Wendeline was wringing her hands. “She’s going to be so upset with me. I haven’t gotten the toddlers out of bed yet.”
“Toddlers?” Allina must have misheard. Hochland Home didn’t have groups of older children in residence. They were in high demand and adopted as soon as they were weaned.
“Please, Allina.” Wendeline looked like she was ready to cry, so Allina threw on her nursing uniform and followed, surprised when the older nurse scurried up the stairs. “This way.”
“Where are we going?”
“Third floor,” Wendeline huffed as she stopped at the top of the stairs.
“I didn’t know there were any children up here.”
“These are the special treatment rooms,” Wendeline explained. “Senior Schwestern care for these children. They take extra effort.”
When she opened the door at the end of the hall, the astringent, musty scent of stale urine hung in the air. The room was filled with rows of low, narrow cots, set close together in barrack style, and covered in coarse navy blankets.
Allina covered her nose and tried breathing through a growing sense of alarm. There were two dozen occupied beds here, so the room should have been filled with the sounds of children. Most of the young ones were silent and lying down, tucked tightly under the covers, their blank stares fixed to the walls or ceiling. A few were upright in their cots, chubby hands plucking at their blankets, and babbling like infants.
Two toddlers had managed to wriggle out from under the covers and were crawling around on the floor.
One little boy saw them enter. He giggled and scrambled to his feet.
“Sheh-shuh,” he lisped. He teetered over to Allina and buried his face in her skirts.
“Be a good boy, Otto, and follow Schwester Allina,” Wendeline murmured. She plucked the second child from the floor and handed him over, pointing to a door at the other side of the room. “Through there,” she told Allina. “The children must be fed first. We’ll take care of their diapers later. There’s no time to change them twice this morning.”
The next two hours were a frenzied mess. Allina helped Wendeline transport the rest of the children into their dining room and get them fed. The toddlers sat on the floor at low tables, eating scrambled eggs and porridge with their hands. No attempt was made to use spoons, and some had little appetite—a small wonder as so many were sitting in soiled diapers.
After breakfast, it took nearly an hour to change them. The state of the children’s bottoms was deplorable.
“We do what we can,” Wendeline said. She handed Allina a tin of Penaten ointment. “These little ones aren’t ready to adopt yet.”
“Why not?” Allina whispered.
“That’s for Director Ebner and Schwester Ziegler to decide. There’s a specific checklist each child must meet before adoption can take place.”
“Surely this setup can’t benefit any of the children—”
The head nurse entered, cutting off all discussion. Schwester Ziegler’s face was gray and her eyes were still puffy from last night’s overindulgence.
When her gaze met Allina’s, the woman skidded to a stop. “Why are you here?”
“I asked her to come, Schwester Ziegler,” Wendeline explained, wringing her hands again. “Ida-Lynne and Marta didn’t report to work this morning. I’m grateful for her help.”
The explanation seemed to satisfy the head nurse, who nodded. “Thank you for filling in, but I’m here now. You may go.”
The woman’s stern tone demanded obeisance, so Allina had no choice. She felt the heat of Schwester Ziegler’s gaze on the back of her neck long after she’d exited the room.
In the days that followed, Allina couldn’t get the sounds and smells and sights of the third floor out of her mind. The lurching gaits, unfocused expressions, and sore, oozing bottoms haunted her, so much that she’d gone to the third floor and worked extra hours on the days when her schedule allowed. She’d also begged Schwester Ziegler to reassign her to the third floor, but the head nurse had refused. You’re still new here, she said. Too often, you let emotion eclipse your judgment. Allina had glimpsed compassion, even anguish, in the older woman’s gaze before her expression hardened. These children serve a purpose, she’d added. We must trust the Reichsführer’s plan.
In that moment, Allina saw the head nurse with different eyes. Something essential in the woman was shattered. It was like looking at a face in a fractured mirror, with the image broken into pieces that no longer fit together. Any kindness Allina had sensed in Schwester Ziegler was nothing more than an echo of the woman she’d once been, a woman who was disappearing. A woman who would follow orders and destroy others, even as she destroyed herself.