Frau Dietrich studied her for a moment.
“Americans again?”
Anna nodded.
The old woman sighed the way people did now—slowly, heavily, like breathing itself had become a burden.
“They smile too much,” she muttered. “Men who smile that much are hiding something.”
Anna didn’t answer.
She lay beside Lotte and stared at the ceiling where moonlight slipped through cracks in the boards.
Sleep didn’t come easily anymore.
The next morning, Anna returned to the command building.
It had once been a bank—solid stone, tall windows, a place where money used to move through the city like blood. Now American flags hung from the entrance, and soldiers smoked on the steps while trucks unloaded crates marked with English words no one bothered to translate.
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