I approached the girl who was digging in the bushes. A partisan? Although she looks like a beaten dog.. Why does she look like.. No. I need to interrogate her. Who is she and why is she sitting here. On Reich territory. The sun beats down on the back of my neck, warm even through the black uniform. I can hear birds singing somewhere in the trees, a cruel contrast to the situation unfolding.

Who are you and what are you doing here? Answer. My voice comes out colder than I intend, but that's better. Better she fears me immediately. The dirt under her fingernails catches the light as she freezes, her body tensing like a trapped animal. I can smell the fear coming off her in waves, mixed with the earthy scent of the forest floor and wild berries.

Her eyes dart to the side, calculating an escape route no doubt. I allow the moment to stretch, enjoying the power of it. The flies buzz around us lazily in the summer heat. My hand rests casually on the holster at my hip, not threatening yet, but a clear reminder of what I'm capable of. She's pretty in a fragile way, like porcelain that would shatter under proper pressure.