"Katja's sick."

"She's been hiding it from us," Erik continued. "She's been sick for nearly a week now. She needs help and quickly before she gets any worse."

Brigitte looked at Erik with concern in her eyes. She glanced around at the busy café. "I can't leave right now to get the doctor. You're going to have to get him."

"What?!" Erik cried. "I don't know this town, I don't speak German, and I have no clue how to find him. How can you expect me to go get him?"

"Katja needs a doctor, but I can't leave the café," she said as she turned her attention to a pot on the stove. "He's just a few blocks away, and he speaks French. Most locals here do. I'm confident that you can find him."

Erik nodded. He would do it for Katja. "Alright. Tell me how to find him."

"Hassan!" Brigitte shouted at one of the other cooks. Besides the family, there was a small staff that worked here as well. After all, three people couldn't run a functioning restaurant alone.

A dark haired man in his mid-twenties instantly turned his attention to her. "Ja?"

She shot a series of commands in rapid-fire German at him; there was absolutely no mistaking who was in charge here. The man took over the food as she seemed to have instructed before pulling Erik to the door. "Go up this street until you reach the bakery. Turn right and keep going until the road bends. When it starts to curve, there'll be a red brick house. That's where you'll find him."

"What about Katja?" he asked.

"Go," she instructed, pushing him out the door. "Either Dieter or I will see how she's doing in a minute." Brigitte shoved him out, leaving a baffled Erik on the street. Was stubbornness something that was just in the family or were all Germans this bad?

Still worried about Katja, Erik took off to find the doctor. While it was nice to be outside without having to hide under a hood and the fear of getting discovered and arrested, the townspeople stared at Erik's mask and he could hear whispered German as he passed by. Most of them knew that he was the one who brought Katja back, and even if they didn't, the porcelain on his face stood out in any crowd.

Erik soon found the bakery. He made the turn and kept going, ignoring the stares of the townspeople. Katja needed help; he couldn't get distracted. For what seemed like forever, Erik went down the road, searching for the bend and the house that Brigitte had talked about.

Finally the street started to curve. Erik thankfully located the house that he was supposed to find. He frantically knocked on the door. After a few agonizingly long minutes, it opened. "Hall-…" the man's eyes grew wide. "Oh," he finished weakly, obviously surprised by the masked man on his doorstep.

"Monsieur, is this doctor's?" Erik asked. If this wasn't it, he was going to be very, very upset. Maybe it was just his concern for Katja, but this trip felt like it took a lot longer than it should have.

"Ja," the man said with a nod. He had a heavy accent, but like Brigitte promised, he spoke French. "You're the man who rescued Dieter's daughter?"

"I need your help. She's sick and we don't know what's wrong with her."

He disappeared inside for a moment, before reappearing with a bag. "How long has she been ill?" he asked as the two started to head back for the café. "And how bad are her symptoms?"

Katja wrapped her arms around her knees. If she didn't know better, it was almost like…But no, it couldn't be. She gasped when her stepmother walked into her bedroom and leaped to her feet. "Whatever Erik told you, he's overreacting. I'm fine," she insisted. As the words left her lips, Katja realized how wrong they were. The mix of the various scents drifting up from the café were already starting to make her nauseous again.

"We need to talk," Brigitte said, putting her hand on Katja's shoulder and guiding her so that they were both sitting on the edge of the bed. "What happened to you?" She shook her head. There was no way she could tell her what happened. Brigitte sighed. "Katja, I may not be your mother by birth, but I've always considered you my daughter. You can tell me anything."

"I…I can't."

"They took advantage of you, didn't they?"

She opened her mouth to deny it, but words couldn't come out. "How…?" she finally managed to squeak.

"Call it intuition. Your father and I have had our suspicions ever since you returned. Katja, those monsters would have killed you if they weren't using you for something. But why wouldn't you tell us?"

Tears began to slide down Katja's cheeks. "I…I was afraid that you would think that I was ruined" she sobbed. "That…that you wouldn't want me back."

"Oh, Katja," Brigitte sighed. "We love you. You're our daughter. How could you ever think that we would turn you away?"

"I…I…I was scared. I didn't know what was going to happen when I came back."

Her stepmother waited a while longer before speaking again. "Katja, do you think that perhaps that you're sick because…is it possible that you're pregnant?"

"No," Katja whispered. "I can't be."

"Katja, I understand it's a scary thought, but you have to consider it…"

"It's not possible!" Katja cried. "I can't be pregnant, because I can't have kids." She broke down into even heavier sobs. "They poisoned me. The man who took me got me pregnant. The bastard poisoned me so I would have a miscarriage and then would never be able to have children. That's what I didn't want you to know. That's why I didn't tell you."

Brigitte hugged her stepdaughter tightly. "Everything's going to be okay. I promise."

"Where's Erik?" Katja asked, wiping her tears away.

"He's fetching a doctor for you," her stepmother explained. "Pregnant or not, you need to be checked over."

"You sent him out?"

"I needed to talk to you."

There was a knock on the door. Brigitte opened the door to reveal Erik and the doctor. Brigitte and the doctor started conversing in quite German, but Katja was focused on Erik. His green eyes were full of worry, but she couldn't help but wonder if he shared her stepmother's suspicions. But why would he? They both knew she couldn't have children, so pregnancy wasn't possible. Right?

"What's going on?" Fredrick asked, running up to Erik, who was pacing furiously upstairs.

"Katja's sick," he explained. "The doctor is examining her now. He'll hopefully figure out what's wrong and help her."

"Then what's bothering you so much? If she's getting help, that's a good thing right?"

Erik glanced towards the door to Katja's room, but it remained closed. "I can't stay."

Fredrick's grew wide as he followed Erik's gaze. "She's going to be devastated. Does she know? When are you going to say goodbye?"

"I haven't told her," Erik replied quietly. "And I'm not entirely sure I can."

German Translations

Ja-Yes

Hallo-Hello