“Shush. We can’t risk anyone hearing you,” she whispered as the prisoner leaned against the wall and groaned. Her strict voice reminded her eerily of Mutter.
Ursula took her coat off him and helped him to hobble into her room and sit down on her bed.
“I’ll have to clean your wound,” she said and disappeared to get a wet rag. Although she was scared, a strange nervous excitement was taking over.
When she came back into the room, he’d taken off his prison trousers, and she gasped at the sight of his bare legs in nothing but his underwear.
“Sorry.” He used the dirty trousers to cover up his midriff and cast her a weak but crooked grin. “Thanks again.”
She didn’t respond and bit her lip in an effort to concentrate on the task at hand. There was a good reason that she, unlike her sister, h
