Introducing OC: Wilhelmina Hofstadter, Johann's orphaned niece.

Berlin, Germany- 1936

She eyed the cracked vinyl upholstery of the car distastefully, ushered roughly into the back seat by a far too eager caseworker whose name she'd long forgotten and didn't particularly wish to recollect. She might have only been of barely ten years, true, but the woman had no right with which to treat her as if a toddler. Silently she likened the well-worn vehicle to her uncle's, imagining the grand all-leather upholstering, the sparkling chrome, flawless and perfectly preserved with the strange looking octopus ornament.

Of course, she mourned her mother's death. She was still so young, only thirty-six. But Uncle Johann had smiled at her and dried her tears, that night. He promised he'd send for her when he arrived in Berlin, home from very important business. It had been a month and a half since then, and she'd been tossed from one orphanage to another, each one claiming to be too poor to be capable of supporting her constantly ailing health.

"Wilhelmina!" the woman's shrill voice broke the hollow silence. "Pay attention, girl."

"Yes, Frau." She mumbled.

"Now, as I was saying. Your uncle is an incredibly accomplished man and therefore an extremely busy man. By the grace of him are you being given a home and – "

"You act as if he doesn't want me." She said quietly.

For a moment the woman glared at her, as if offended by her miniscule interruption.

"I did not ask you to speak, did I?" she shook her head dutifully. "Then continue in your silence. Herr Schmidt has neither time nor patience enough to take you on; he merely thinks he has acquired these capabilities because he refuses to understand your… numerous ailments. Therefore, if you are not on your finest behavior; if you are sent back to the case system, the consequences for you will dire. No orphanage in Berlin is capable of handling your expensive medical care and we've already searched through various foster families. None have any interest in you. Though it would be a tragedy, you too could end up in the workhouses. I believe that – "

"Frau?"

The woman's hawk-eyes bore into her impatiently.

"May I speak?"

She rolled her eyes, sighing heavily. "Go on."

"My uncle will not send me back. Uncle Johann is the most kindest man in the world. He promised he'd come for me after he got home from business. He is home now, isn't he?"

The woman gawked at her; she'd never been able to speak more than a few sentences in her presence.

"Yes, well…" she folded her hands matter-of-factly. "We are here."

XXX

They started up the polished marble steps, the girl in silence, the case-worker chittering like a frightened squirrel. She reached a long finger to the doorbell, swathed in Kidd gloves.

"Now, be silent while we wait."

A sallow-looking young girl dressed in starched grey opened the door silently. She eyed them both curiously, and in turn, Mina stared back at her.

"You must be the case-worker." The girl said quietly. "Come in."

The woman put on a fake smile and pulled Mina in roughly.

"Wait here. Herr Schmidt will be with you shortly." The maid shuffled off into another room.

Mina looked about. She'd never actually been to her Uncle's home. He'd only ever visited her at her family's home in Regensburg. The whitewashed walls were mostly barren, save for a few randomly placed paintings and a Bombay table sitting beside a coatrack, also barren. A narrow view into the living room only divulged that the furniture was mostly imported from Paris. But there was something else. A small, silver-framed photograph lay on the coffee table.

A tall, very lanky man dressed in an ornate black Schutzstaffel uniform stood next to a small smiling woman, her delicate hand clasped in his large, gloved one. She bit her lip and salty tears brimmed at the edges of her eyes. Heavy footfalls aroused her from her daze, and she looked about. The caseworker glanced down at her.

"Wipe your eyes, child." She said quietly, almost gently, as if for once she understood her sadness. The picture had depicted a much younger version of her uncle, hand-in-hand with her mother, his older sister. The footfalls grew louder now, and she detected them to be the hollow 'clop' of SS-issued jackboots. At the top of the winding staircase, a man appeared. He was no longer dressed in a fancy Schutzstaffel uniform, but one she had never seen before in the grand parades that Hitler gave.

Black, with winding red trim and shiny pewter buttons. An intricately carved silver emblem was pinned to the broad lapel of his jacket, an octopus body with a gruesome skull head. He looked the same in most ways. His dark brown hair was combed back, his dark eyebrows severely arched. His piercing eyes still held their penetrating intensity.

But, still, there was something different about him. He seemed bigger than the last time she saw him. His shoulders were broader, his torso, thicker and more muscular. She watched as he descended the stairs, walking in his typical languid stride.

"My apologies, madam, for the wait. I was preoccupied with some rather pressing business."

The caseworker merely blinked, as if she had also been stunned by his silent yet somehow captivating entrance.

"Well… it is really no problem, mein Herr. I… I needed a few moments to prepare the girl anyhow." She stammered.

The arched eyebrow rose curiously. "The girl?"

"Wilhemina, I mean." She started hurriedly.

He nodded slightly, as if accepting her correction, though with some annoyance. He probed delicately at his jawbone. "Yes."

The woman was silent.

He sighed, growing vexed. "I assume you have papers for me to sign, madam?"

"Uh… ja, ja. One moment, please." She hurriedly whipped through her portfolio, thumbing through the folders, hands shaking as she did so. Mina glanced up at her uncle, who was eyeing the woman with some distaste. He lifted his wrist slightly, as if to glance at his watch. For a moment, his eyes locked with hers, and his lip twitched upward, as if to smile at her, but by this time, the caseworker had retrieved the papers and turned his attention to them.

She waited as the woman discussed the final agreement with him, staring quietly at her shoes.

The woman eventually left; the housekeeper having returned to propel her swiftly out the door.

For a moment, there was no sound save for the door slamming shut and the shuffling of papers as her uncle neatly stacked them. He glanced upward, catching her gaze. He stood up, straightening his jacket. He looked at her sternly for a moment, though from the slight glint in his eyes, she could tell he was trying not to smile. He again massaged his jawbone, as if it were some odd habit. He held out his arms.

"My beautiful girl,"

She smiled and ran to him, feeling his strong arms catch her in his tight embrace.