The night was tough on Helena as well. Tomorrow she would put her fate in someone else’s hands. And she swore that whatever the outcome she would accept it. She had spent too many years hoping. And now she was tired. Tired of believing in something that might not exist. Tired of the effort it took to defend her beliefs to her family who had long ago dealt with their grief.So her last chance was in the hands of Herr Max. Perhaps what she had heard about him was exaggerated as even after all this time she didn’t always understand the humor of Germans. Did they trust him or were they making fun of him by calling him Max the spy?
Fate had brought him to her – but what if the name was given as a joke? What if he wasn’t a spy? Would he laugh and her and tell her to forget about it too– just as her family had?
Well, either way she had decided that this was her last effort...whatever the outcome.
She needed to calm her nerves. “Why is there never anything to drink in this house!” she thought. Ahh...some brandy in the desk drawer. That would do. As she opened the window, the night breeze brought with it the noise of people in the restaurant across the platz. A low hum that mixed with the brandy finally brought her sleep.
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