A/N: yay! I'm happy because I got reviews. Thank you to everyone so much! If you're ever bored, read my others, too! And I'll try to read yours… Oh, and I found out that the Nazi guy's name is Hector, but I still don't know his last name. That German accent makes it hard! Oh, well.

I sat on the couch and cried until my stomach begged me to stop. I couldn't imagine my big, strong, brave brother crying like he said he was. And somehow I felt guilty for not being with him.

The door opened and I quickly folded up the letter and shoved it under my shirt. I wiped away my tears and stood.

"Will," mother said. "Your eyes… are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I replied, trying to sound convincing.

"If you're sure."

I started away, but once I was out of sight my mother said something to Hector. I stopped walking and listened.

"You should begin writing that letter to your official."

"I'll work on nit tomorrow. For now I need a break."

Then it was silent. I guessed that they went into the kitchen or sat on the couch. I went into my room and shut the door. I pulled out the letter and put it in a drawer, then went to bed early.

~*~

The next morning I was at the table eating some toast. I couldn't help but think of Peter and all the others in the camps… how they probably never had anything as good as even stale bread there. Stew and vomit, Peter had told me. And I also thought about how maybe they only had a few meals a week. Suddenly, I felt guilty again.

Mother was sleeping in, and Hector was at the table writing something. I assumed that it was that letter to his official that mother had mentioned.

The phone rang. Hector hesitated, then got up and went into another room to answer it.

His hesitation caught my eye. It was as if he didn't want to leave something alone. The letter.

I could hear him talking on the phone in the background, and my curiosity overtook me. What was the letter about? Why did he have to write it to a Nazi official, if the Nazis were now finished?

I hesitated, then stood. I cautiously walked over to where he'd been sitting and peered at the letter.

General Schlecher-

I am happy to report that I have successfully completed my orders. They were strictly to execute my lot of the survivors from camp 1789511. Numbers 398127, 326695, and 259728 were killed by me personally. I hope that

I didn't read the rest. Was that Peter's camp? His number?

I scrambled for the pen and scribbled all four numbers on the inside of my hand. I heard footsteps coming nearer and darted for my chair.

I resumed eating as if nothing had happened. He didn't notice that I'd been up. Luckily.

I hurried through breakfast and put my dishes in the sink. Then I rushed to my room and immediately looked for the letter. I found it without any trouble. Comparing the numbers, I found-

Two of them were exact!

"No," I said. "It can't… I got it wrong. I…" Examining them again, I found that they were identical. The man in the kitchen had killed my brother. Personally, according to the letter.

I decided right then that I had to get a hold of that letter. Had to. Maybe I copied it wrong. Maybe I was so anxious and scared that I didn't see clearly.

I glanced at the top of Peter's letter and the date caught my eye. Aug. 30, 1945.

August 30th! Hector had told me that he died August 26th!

If he lied, then it would only make sense that he had a reason. The reason was that he killed him.

I wasn't sad. I was angry. How dare he take away my brother! We were so close… Peter had survived the camp. He had been alive when Hitler died. He should be home with me. He should be alive. Should be…

But he wasn't.