Chapter 8
“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there,” she said with an apologetic smile.
“Sabine Mahler?”
“Yes. Why?” Sabine answered, wariness in her gaze and tension filling her limbs.
The man pointed toward a black vehicle parked at the curb. “Gestapo. You must come with me.”
Violent fear rushed through her body, making it impossible to follow his order. Out of habit, she raised a hand to control whether her elegant hairdo had become undone, even whilst her knees shook. Usually, large ring curls rolled back from her face, forming an elegance rivaling that shown by the actresses that graced the silver screen. A bevy of pin curls kept the rest of her hair secured at the base of her neck, adding to the sophistication of the hairstyle. The perfect rolls and pinup curls in her honey-blonde hai
