The year is 1942 and Europe is at the height of World War Two. Mila Goldstein, a Dutch Jew living in occupied Holland, has signed on as an informant for the British Secret Intelligence Service (SIS). However, days before her assignment, a wounded Ge...
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HAPPY MONDAY! This chap is on the shorter side, but sadly it's all I have time to write at the moment! I hope you guys like it! Let me know what you think! <3
"What's for dinner tonight?" Mila asked as Josef turned the key, unlocking the front door of his house. Swinging it open, he gestured for her to step inside before closing the door behind them.
"You'll see," Josef smirked, taking off his coat, tossing it, and his bag on the side table.
"What's that?" Mila asked, pointing to a folder sticking out of the front pouch of the satchel.
"Just a report I've got to finish before tomorrow," He replied. "I didn't want to delay our dinner so I brought it home."
"What's the report on?" She asked, following him into the kitchen. Though, if she were honest, she wasn't very interested. As bad of a taste her meeting with Harvey and Catherine had left the week prior, she hadn't been doing much more snooping around the office.
"It seems there was an attempted break out over the weekend. A prison transport was ambushed on its way to Vught," Josef began, opening the fridge to gather up the ingredients for dinner. "Apparently some of the prisoners were family members of Dutch Resistance."
Lucas ... Mila froze, her heart dropping into her stomach at Josef's words. They'd went ahead with a rescue mission. "Were they successful?" She asked, trying to keep her tone casual.
"Hardly," Josef shook his head. "There were only four of them so they never really stood a chance."
"What will happen to them?" She asked, her heart pounding now. Why hadn't they gotten reinforcements? She'd seen the desperation on Anton's face that night at the War Office, but she didn't think they'd be that desperate. Surely they'd known going in alone was nothing short of suicidal.
"I suppose they'll be taken to the camp with the rest of the prisoners," Josef shrugged.
"Do you think it's right?" She asked, stealing a glance at him. "Sending women and children to labor camps because of who they're related to?"
"I don't have to think it's right..." He replied matter-of-factly. "It's an order."
"But surely you have an opinion," Mila pressed, crossing her arms over her chest.
"It doesn't matter what my opinion is," He shook his head.
"It matters to me!" She retorted, her tone sharper than she'd meant for it to be. "I'm sorry..." She sighed.
"Don't be," Josef cut her off softly. Grasping her forearms, he unfolded them from over her chest, keeping her hand in his as he studied her expression. "You've seemed distant this past week ... What's on your mind?"
"Do you ever wonder," She paused, choosing her next words carefully. "When it's all said and done, and this war is over, if we'll be on the right side of things?" She looked up at him, regretting her question almost immediately. He was gazing down at her with a furrowed brow, a puzzled expression on his face. Of course he'd never wondered that ... Germany thought it was fighting a righteous war. "I'm sure you think me treasonous," She laughed bitterly, trying to pull her hand from his.
"No..." Josef squeezed her hand before she could escape his grasp. "I don't. As a matter of fact, the longer this war drags on, the more I find myself asking that very question."
"How do you do it? How do you separate your duty from all the horrible things happening around you?" She asked earnestly.
She had been searching for an answer to that question for some time, the task of detaching herself from the harsh reality she was in becoming more daunting by the day. Harvey had asked if she was capable of closing herself off in order to do the job at hand. She had believed she was ... Believed she would be able to keep her feelings locked away in a far corner of her heart. She was living a lie though, and she was beginning to feel the weight of that deceit with each passing day ... Feeling as though she were an imposter in her own life. So much so, that even Josef, who she'd found solace in, was becoming less of a comfort, and more of a reminder of what she had tried to distract herself from in the first place. After all, if he knew the truth, his affection for her would surely disappear.
"I love my country," Josef answered her question, pulling her out of her thoughts. "And I don't want to see it broken ... Not again."
"When does love for one's country stop being enough?" She asked, drawing her eyes back up to his.
"I don't know," He replied earnestly. "But what I do know," He began, brushing his fingertips against her cheek. "Is that this war, as terrible as it is, brought you to me. And if that's the only good thing to come of it all, then I'll cling to that."
Brushing back the curls from her face, he pressed his lips softly against her's, pulling away after a fleeting moment. Her lips turned up into a small smile, the weight within her chest lifting slightly for the first time in days.
"Let's go," Josef said, grasping her hand.
"Where are we going?" She asked as he pulled her towards the front door. "What about dinner?"
"I've got another plan," He smiled over his shoulder. "You'll see."
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I know this chapter's short, but if you liked it, please vote & comment! <3
