With an anxious tug at her cap, Allina hurried down the row of nursing mothers. She’d woken a half hour late this morning to gray skies and a fine drizzle that made her sinuses feel like they’d been stuffed with tea towels. Washing only the necessary bits, Allina had choked down a hard, unbuttered roll and fruit—a miserable mistake, as everyone at Hochland Home was running late and she could still smell the bacon she’d sacrificed at breakfast. Worse, not one mother had shown up on time to nurse, and the women in the South Wing were in lazy, spiteful moods. She couldn’t afford to have the rest of the day go like this. Six mothers still lounged in their chairs, although the first feeding session had been over for twenty minutes.
Allina turned to Lotte and forced a smile. “You see? Little Ingrid is stronger today.” She scooped Ingrid up and laid her back in the crib, but the baby fussed and kicked off the blanket. “She’s already gained four ounces this week.”
Lotte’s entire body seemed to sigh with relief. “Thank you, Schwester.”
“Thank you, Schwester,” Berta mimicked. She tossed aside the latest fashion magazine and stood to leave. Allina took Neils and transferred him to the cradle, but the second she set him down, he began to howl, startling several other babies who quickly joined in. The room filled with a chorus of fussy crying, which sliced like knives into her skull.
“It’s a shame you can’t control the children in your charge.” Berta clucked her tongue in mock sympathy and adjusted the blue silk scarf at her neck. “But then, control isn’t your strong suit, is it, Schwester? Frau Himmler wondered why you left the party in a huff the other night. Von Strassberg went looking for you. Did he find you after all?” She chuckled. “I went looking for him myself.”
Rilla sent Berta a nasty glare. “Why don’t you shut your mouth for once?”
“Go grab another biscuit from the buffet to stuff your face with. Maybe that’ll sweeten your mood.” Berta flicked her eyes over Rilla’s body. Rilla hadn’t shed much of her pregnancy weight yet, an embarrassing sore point.
The other mothers muttered in shock and perverse excitement while Allina counted to ten. On any other day, the exchange might have been funny, but this feud had been escalating for weeks and her nerves were shot.
“I said, shut up!” Rilla leaped up, fists balled at her sides, and lunged toward Berta in three aggressive steps.
Berta tipped her chin up. “Make me!”
“Enough!” Allina slammed her hand down on the counter. Every soul in the room—Rilla, Berta, the other mothers, and all the infants—went quiet for a glorious moment. Allina closed her eyes and let out a sigh.
The babies started howling again.
Allina pointed her finger at both women. “Not one more word—”
Three brisk knocks on the nursery door cut her lecture short. “Come,” she called out.
Wendeline bustled in to relieve her, with Karl on her heels. Allina’s relief was so intense her knees nearly gave out. She leaned against the counter, not bothering to temper her smile.
Karl managed to bow to the mothers without sparing them a glance. No, his blue gaze was all for her as the women handed over their babies and filed meekly out of the room.
Rilla, of course, stayed behind. “I’m glad you’ve returned, Gruppenführer. Your absence put this one in a horrible mood yesterday,” she teased, wrapping an arm around Allina’s waist.
Allina pinched the inside of her friend’s elbow, but Rilla was in a state. She hip-bumped her back.
Karl leaned against the wall, slouching a bit in his perfectly pressed gray uniform. His lips twitched. “Is that right?”
“I caught her looking in her locket several times,” Rilla added with a wink.
Karl’s attention shifted to Rilla, who fumbled with the collar of her red gingham blouse. “How interesting, Fräulein Weber, that you kept tabs on her,” he said softly. Although his voice was pleasant, there was a hint of menace in the tightness of his mouth.
Allina jiggled Rilla’s arm. The poor thing jumped. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be, Rilla?”
“We’re the ones who need to leave,” Karl said. “You’ll excuse us?”
“Of course.” Rilla bowed her head.
Karl tucked Allina’s hand in his arm as he escorted her toward the entrance to the garden. “It’s a shame I had to be so abrupt,” he murmured. “She’s a sweet girl.”
“And a perceptive one,” Allina answered, reaching for her coat. “She sees beyond your uniform. Be careful, there.”
Karl slipped the coat up her arms and around Allina’s shoulders. When she turned around, the tips of his ears were pink.
“Did you get my note?” he asked. “I sent one by courier last night.” He guided them to their favorite bench at the far corner of the garden.
“Your note only said you were in meetings about the children. I need details.”
He leaned back and crossed his long legs, looking satisfied with himself. “I went directly to the Reichsführer. He approved an experiment here, one we can use to help those children.”
Relief was so intense she nearly hugged him. “An experiment?”
“One to rehabilitate them,” Karl said, crossing his arms over his chest. “He agreed to let us try with ten children.”
Only ten. “And the others?”
He grunted and turned away.
“Tell me, Karl.”
“His scientists will continue to work with the rest to determine the reason for their disability.” Karl’s voice was too calm, and when their eyes met, his face was a careful blank.
It was her turn to look away. She’d known the truth down deep in her bones, but hearing it was a different thing altogether.
A snow finch soared in on a gust of wind, fluffing its dove-gray wings as it settled on the bench beside theirs. It waited, chirping as it cocked its head and examined them with dark, glossy eyes. After a minute, the bird hopped to the edge of the bench and flew free over the hedge.
“They’re going to hurt those children,” she whispered. “Kill them.”
“Perhaps, yes. Eventually.” Taking her hand, he pressed his thumb to her wrist. The touch anchored her. “If we can rehabilitate ten, it will make a case for more. You’ve got tough decisions to make.”
“You want me to pick which children to keep.” She rubbed her eyes to keep back the tears. “And, by default, which to send away.” Of course the decisions were hers. There was no one else to make them.
“Yes. You must pick carefully.”
“I will. The decisions won’t be difficult.” They’d be heartbreaking, but clear enough. “I’ll select the ones with the greatest physical coordination, the best manners and speech.”
“Good,” he said. “I’ll need a file on each that lists their strengths and weaknesses to help us measure improvement.”
“Of course,” she said. “I’ll do it tonight.” Allina eased over, just enough to rest her head on his shoulder, accepting his strength, his surety, to prepare for what was to come.
Karl went absolutely still. After a few moments, he rested his head against hers.
“We begin tomorrow,” he said. “I’ve recruited three friends to help. Two of my men, and an old friend, a doctor. They can’t wait to meet you.”
“So soon?” Surprised, she pulled away. “How will I explain that?”
“You don’t have to. I’ve told Schwester Ziegler you’re on special assignment to the Reichsführer. Your duties will shift, beginning tomorrow. That’s all she needs to know.”
“I wish I could have seen her face when you told her.”
He chuckled at that and pulled her to her feet. “She wasn’t happy, but she’ll fall in line. If she gives you trouble, I’ll handle it.”
“It sounds like you’ve handled everything.” Allina took the arm Karl offered, leaning on him as they walked slowly back to the house. “Did you convince her to give us a room to work out of tomorrow, as well? Or perhaps arrange for a buffet lunch?”
A flush crept up Karl’s neck into his cheeks. “I’ve done better than that. We’ll work out of my Munich office. Less interference that way. I thought you might want a day away from this place.”
A day outside of Hochland Home with Karl. The idea had her heart racing for several reasons, one so important that the words rushed out of her mouth before she could stop them.
“I have a favor to ask.”
His grin was immediate. “Anything.”
“The items sewn into my coat, the ones I transferred to the box. They’re letters from my father, and … other things of his. I can’t risk reading them here. There’s no privacy.” She’d escaped to her room three times in the past week to try to read her father’s letters and been interrupted every time. Last night after dinner, the head nurse had come into her room without knocking, on an emergency errand.
Karl nodded. “Of course. Bring them with you.”
“Thank you.” Having her father’s letters five feet away in a locked box was maddening. “I’ve never read them. I didn’t know they existed until a few days before I … left Badensburg.”
He took her hand again, squeezed it. “We’ll make time.”
Rumors about Allina’s reassignment spread through Hochland Home by noon. She didn’t have to hear the chatter to know everyone was talking. The prickly discomfort on the back of her neck was evidence enough. Then there were the looks—Schwester Ziegler’s frowns, Lotte’s discreet peeks full of envy, and Berta’s loathing sneer—and an annoying cluster of questions from Rilla which, of course, she couldn’t answer. A special project? For Reichsführer Himmler? And Gruppenführer von Strassberg is involved? Why would he be interested in a special project at Hochland Home?
When Berta approached Allina after dinner and asked if the files she’d seen her hand over in the garden had to do with this special project, Allina had a moment of panic before she calmed herself down and walked away. Allina would have to share that observation with Karl at some point, but Berta didn’t have the details. Still, the woman was too clever, too deliberate in her menace. Allina had to find a way to cut her down.
She retired to her room after dinner. She missed the evening’s character training class, but the satisfaction that she couldn’t be penalized for her absence did little to dull the evening’s pain. She spent an hour agonizing over her choices, and another creating the files he’d asked for. It was a ruthless task, one that forced Allina to concentrate on the children they’d save instead of the ones they couldn’t. When she slid into bed after midnight, her stomach hummed with anticipation and her throat ached with unshed tears. But there was no utility in her sadness, so she pushed it aside. She had to trust they were doing the right thing.