Chapter NinePia rushed down the sidewalk toward Dieter’s shop, her canvas bag banging her hip. She glanced at the headlines on the stacks of Berliner Morgenpost and Völkischer Beobachter that announced the celebrations planned for Hitler’s birthday. Der Führer would be fifty-four years old, and Berlin was going all out for the occasion.
Across the street, multicolored ribbons hung from several storefronts. Where on earth had the poor shop owners obtained such things in the midst of rationing and deprivation? The black market? Perhaps the authorities distributed the items in an effort to spruce up the city.
The late afternoon sun dipped behind the buildings. Hulking shadows created pockets of darkness. She peeked at the watch pinned to her coat and picked up the pace. A stitch knifed her
