Rifiuto: Non Miriena
A/N: Hey guys, here's 29. Now if you excuse me, Z wants me to pick something up for her. I'm just wondering why the hell it has to be pickles. Yuck.
"Anyone who remains silent in the face of murder is an accomplice to murder. Anyone who does not condemn approves."
- Zofia Kossak-Szczucka (1889 - 1968), Polish Activist, Writer, and Co-founder of the Polish Resistance group Zegota
Berlin, Germany
5:00 P.M.
Zahrah tightened her hold upon Chava. This was it; they'd been caught and were going to spend the remainder of their short lives struggling to survive in the death camps. She glanced at Adrian, not hearing his mother's words, only focusing on her sister, and how best to keep her safe once they reached Auschwitz. The soft clearing of a throat caused her to look up; Adrian stood before her, holding out a hand. After a moment, she gently untangled Chava's arms from her body and handed her sister over. Once the girl was in the room, he reached for her waist, helping her out of the hole. Steadying her, he rested his forehead to hers, releasing a soft breath.
"Es tut mir leid, Zara." The soft apology did nothing to dry the tears that inadvertently fell from her eyes, though it did touch her heart, for she knew how careful he had been, how he'd struggled to look out for them, and taken every precaution to ensure their safety within the house and away from his parents, and yet-
"What... who..." She looked around quickly, before returning her gaze to his.
"My little sister could not keep her mouth shut." Adrian ground out softly. Zahrah nodded, ducking her head he pulled away, but her head immediately snapped up when his mother spoke.
"I don't understand, Adrian. You and Corinna have been... hiding two Jewish girls... how long has this been going on?" She watched as Adrian stepped in front of her, blocking her from his mother.
"Since I returned from University." He swallowed. "I... I went to the courthouse to make copies of Christophe's last pamphlet, and as I was leaving... I found them, hiding in the alley behind the courthouse. I brought them home that night- Cora caught us, and agreed to keep them secret." He watched his mother as she connected the dots, sighing.
"And so you think, Adrian, that hiding two Jewish girls in the wall of your room was the better option? That keeping them a secret from your father and I was better than telling us?"
"Because we knew you would send them out on the street, Mother! They would die if we didn't do anything to help!" Cora cried, finally finding her voice.
But Zahrah, sensing the tension within the room, reached back into the hole and grabbed the knapsacks she and Chava had brought with them when they fled the ghetto. She grabbed her sister's hand, tugging the child to her feet, turning to Adrian. Tears came to her eyes as she met his gaze; this young man... this beautiful young man who had seen something wrong and then tried to help in even the smallest, simplest of ways- giving her and Chava a place to sleep and what food he and his sister could sneak from their family's kitchen- for two weeks, was forever in her debt.
It was a debt she would never be able to repay.
She went to him, studying his features silently, before reaching up and taking his face in her hands. She rested her forehead to his, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. "Toda." The word fled from her lips with heartache trailing behind, for she had begun to look on him as more than just her protector in these last two weeks-
"Where are you going?" She shook her head; she and Chava could not stay if their very presence was going to be the cause for his family tearing apart. A moment passed, before he realized, shaking his head.
"No." But all she did was cradle his head in her hands and press as soft kiss to his cheek.
Then she pulled away, going to Cora, who had pulled Chava onto the bed with her, and pressed a kiss to her hair, whispering her thanks in the girl's hair. She then took Chava from the bed, grasping her hand. With one last glance back at the siblings, she tugged her sister out of the room and down the stairs towards the doors. If she was lucky, this small kindness would keep her and Chava surviving in the camps. She ignored Cora's cries, or the footsteps following them down the stairs-
But as she reached for the doorknob, it opened, and a man stepped inside, shaking an umbrella free of raindrops. "Annelie-" He stopped, at the sight of two young Jews in his foyer, out of the corner of his eye, the man could see his children rushing down the stairs, his wife following behind.
"Henrik, you're home early-" Zahrah watched him force his gaze from her and Chava to his wife.
"Because of the storm. We cannot conduct courts without working power. It is out all down that end of Berlin. And... why are there two Jewish-" He turned to the girls, but Zahrah, seeing this as their chance, dashed out the door and down the few steps. Cora's scream echoed through the foyer and out into the street where it died thanks to the pounding of the rain.
"Zahrah, why did we have to leave? I liked them. They were nice." She didn't turn her gaze to her sister, just focused ahead as she spoke; she could hear what she thought were footsteps following, but with the pounding of the rain around them, couldn't be sure, and couldn't identify if they were the heavy footfalls of the Gestapo come after them or someone else. "Zahrah, I do not understand-"
"It is because we are Jewish, Chava." She choked out, tears sliding down her cheeks. "They do not want Jews contaminating their children."
"But they are nice, Zahrah. I like them. They kept us safe-"
"It does not matter, Chava!" She cried, wheeling on the child. "Any little kindness a Gentile shows us is only a false truth for how they truly feel! Look at the ghetto! We thought it was for our protection, but it was just so they could deport us to camps easier!" She choked on a sob, thinking back on her brother- Levi had never trusted the Gentiles; he had refused to believe their lies, and he had been right. Instead of leaving them be, they had near destroyed all within the ghetto.
"Levi was right." She choked out, meeting Chava's eyes as she knelt down to her sister's eye level. "Gentiles can never be trusted."
"That's not true!" Her head snapped up; Adrian stood before her, dripping wet and out of breath; clearly, he had been the one following them. She stood, stepping in front of her sister. "You can trust my family."
"What are you doing? Why are you following us?" He stepped closer, but she backed up, pushing Chava with her.
"I'm here to take you back home." She shook her head, turning from him to take Chava's hand.
"We have no home. Just each other." But as they started to leave, he grabbed her hand; she turned.
"Zara, no! Zara, please! It's not safe out here! You'll be caught and taken to the camps if not killed where you stand!"
"What does it matter to you? Why do we matter to you? You have a family! You have a home! No one has destroyed all you know and taken all you love simply because of who you are! You have never known hunger and disease..." She shook her head, fresh tears in her eyes. "You have never known hate... because you are a German. Because you are not like Chava, not like me. You know only love. You will never know hate."
But as she turned, tightening her grip on her sister's hand, he pulled her towards him, taking her chin and planting his mouth on hers.
