DANTE
Dante had no idea where to look for Fräulein Schmidt’s clothes. He went the same direction down the hall that the doctor and the others had gone, and as it turned out, he got lucky. Rounding two corners, he came to a room with its door propped open by a small rubber wedge. He entered the room, startled to see the floor painted gray. It was probably the only part of the building that wasn’t white, and it felt good to see the contrast.
A blast of dry heat blew a chemical smell into his face. Before him stood a massive metal furnace with a glass window on the front, glowing fiery red within. Dante had never seen a furnace like that, though his parents had one at home they hardly ever used. The weather in Malta rarely got chilly, but his father had bought the furnace new in Germany and
