For Such a Time by Kate Breslin Read Free Book Online

while the strong grew feeble enough to be easily managed.
    Shame pricked her. Any of those still suffering in that place would gladly eat dog were it roasted on a spit and served up to them. “And the meek shall inherit the land . . .”
    Only the strong survived in it. Stella took a bite of the pork and resisted an urge to gag. Three more and her stomach roiled. “I’m sorry.” Her fork clattered onto the plate. “No more—”
    “That wasn’t so terrible, was it?” he cajoled. “Soon you’ll regain your strength.”
    Despair swept through her like an icy wind. He’d made her defile herself before God.
    “You’ll need new clothing for your position as my secretary. Helen will find you a suitable wardrobe.”
    She barely heard him. It was she who had remained faithful; now she’d failed.
    “You’re exhausted.” He rose from his place at the table and moved around behind her. “Upstairs with you. Get some sleep. Morning will arrive soon enough.”
    Helen had returned with a tray of cheese and dried fruit. “Helen, please help Fräulein Muller to her room,” he ordered.
    “I can manage.” Yet as Stella started to rise, her knees gave out. She grabbed at his arm to keep from falling.
    “You’re so thin, and much too weak,” he said gruffly. “Helen will help until you’re stronger. Meanwhile, I won’t have you falling down and cracking your skull.”
    “Please, I’m fine.” She hated being treated like a child, or worse, like an invalid. She pulled away and walked carefully toward the stairs.
    On the wall at the foot of the landing she spied a painting she hadn’t noticed before. Larger than the watercolor in her room, the oil-on-canvas scene was also quite different. Snowcapped peaks—the Bavarian Alps, she guessed—rose behind a castle of gray rock and mortar that lay nestled in a green meadow. Hazy clouds drifted in a blue sky, and beyond the meadow stood a monastery, its bell tower visible in the distance.
    Oddly she found the image comforting. Stella imagined the rich, loamy smell of grass as the cry of a solitary bell chimed the hour. Her home in Mannheim’s bustling city had differed greatly from this pastoral scene.
    Again she felt a violent longing for what she’d lost: her uncle and their cheery apartment above his shop on the Roonstrasse ; her clerk’s job at the printing press manufacturer, Schnellpressen AG , in neighboring Heidelberg; her best friend, Marta Kurtz. Parties. Music. They were all gone, as if her former life had never existed except in dreams.
    Only uncertainty remained. Tangible, oppressive, it weighed her down like a shackle, knowing that someday she would be caught in a lie or cause some slight. Or perhaps there would be no reason at all, simply that this new monster would grow tired of her.
    When that happened, not even God could save her. She reached for the banister, pulling her exhausted body up the stairs.
    Maybe it would have been better to die.

 4 
    “If I have found favor with you, O king, and if it pleases your majesty, grant me my life.”
    Esther 7:3
    S tella shivered in line on the Appellplatz during roll call as the horse - drawn Moorexpress paused to collect another body . Corpses , piled at contorted angles , glistened in the gray light , clothed in the crystalline gauze of half rain , half snow .
    At the top sprawled a dead child.
    Stella shoved a fist in her mouth. The ground shifted beneath her. Please, God, no!
    Then a tiny breath rose like mist from the heap; she caught the imperceptible flutter of baby-soft lashes. Stella tried to scream, though no sound emerged. She broke from the line, but strong hands pulled her back . She turned to meet Greatcoat’s gaze. His green eyes were cold, his grip painful.
    The Moorexpress had reached the Krematorium. A loud wail echoed from inside the ovens. A child’s cry of terror . . .
    Anna! Stella fought to free herself from Greatcoat’s arms. Biting, kicking, she exhausted every ounce of