“I’m here to see Bruno Wahler,” Anna said, sinking her hands into her coat pockets.
The woman pointed with a crooked finger to a stairway. “Third floor. Last room on the left.”
“Danke.”
Her breath turned shallow as she climbed the stairs. She paused at the third-floor landing, taking in gulps of air, and along with it the smell of stale tobacco smoke. Approaching the door, hair stood up on the back of her neck.It’s all a misunderstanding. Everything will be fine.She knocked. Footsteps grew from inside the room, and the door opened.
“Anna,” Bruno said, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m happy you’re here.”
“I promised,” she said, her legs feeling weak.
He released her, shut the door, and then helped her to remove her coat.
The room was much like the one on the second floor, which Bruno had rented during their courtship. It contained a small brass bed with a gray wool blanket, a solitary wooden chair, and a washstand, from which a lit candle cast an amber glow over the room.
“I was able to acquire some black bread this afternoon,” Bruno said, pointing to a paper bag on the washstand. “I thought we could take it home to share for dinner, unless you’d like to eat some now.”
Anna shook her head.
He approached her. “You look pale. Are you feeling all right?”
“Nein.”
“Please sit.” He clasped her hand and led her toward the bed. “I’ll get you some water.”
“Not now,” she said, slipping away from him. She leaned her back against the footboard of the brass bed. “We need to talk.”
“What’s wrong?”
Nausea rose up from her belly and seized in her throat. “I overheard your conversation with Max last night.”
“Oh,” he said. “What did you hear?”
She swallowed. “Tell me about the Disinfection Unit.”
Bruno’s eyebrows furrowed, and then softened. “Oh, that.” He attempted to embrace her and she pulled away.
“Please don’t,” she said, placing her hands in front of her.
“All right.” He lowered his arms and looked at her.
“Tell me,” she said.
“I know nothing about a Disinfection Unit, other than what Max told me last night,” Bruno said, his voice calm. “He claims it was a special unit that installed poison gas in his trench.”
“Did you ever hear of it before?”
“Nein,” he said. “Max seems to blame this unit for his blindness, even though it was a French shell, which pierced a gas cylinder, that caused the accident.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Based on his questioning, he seemed to infer that I had something to do with the installation of gas in his trench.”
“Why would he think that?” Anna asked.
“Perhaps it was because I was stationed in Ypres at the time of his injury, and he’s now mistakenly associating my regiment with this so-called Disinfection Unit.”
“But your regiment did something else in Ypres, correct?”
“Ja,” he said. “I led a unit that constructed bunkers. But soon after I was reassigned to an artillery post.”
Anna took a deep breath and exhaled.
