Impenetrable fog clouded his vision. Voices reached his ears but he couldn’t make out the words. Straining his ears, he recognized his brother’s voice and a woman. The nurse.
Piotr’s wife.
Piotr’s wifeShe’d come to take his brother to Berlin. He wanted to scream, tell them to stay. But at the same time he knew it was selfish. His leg wasn’t getting any better and at the rate his condition was worsening he’d be dead before Christmas.
He wasn’t afraid. The past five years with the partisans in Poland had taught him to cope with the fear. It came, washed over him and settled deep down in his stomach, reminding him to be alert. Keeping him on his toes and never letting him feel invincible. The fear had often been his lifesaver, and had prevented him from becoming reckless.
Now he was past
