Page 37 of Library of Forbidden Books

Helene was on edge the rest of the day. Sure enough, before the prisoners lined up for roll call, Ludmilla stormed to the workshop door and demanded that Helene come outside. When she exited, Helene noticed the courtyard was empty.

Ludmilla hissed, “So you like to spy?”

Helene hung her head and said in her most humble tone, “I’m so sorry. I was just going to get another roll of fabric—”

Ludmilla gripped her nightstick with both hands and started circling Helene.

“Don’t you get it? To us, you scum aren’t human. You’ve betrayed your race and your country, and you don’t deserve to be on this planet. If it were up to me, I’d kill you all.”

She raised her stick, and Helene covered her head with her arms.

“Plus, you’re pretty, and I don’t like that,” the guard said, bringing the nightstick down hard on Helene’s head. “Around here, I’m the only one men should be looking at.”

The blows kept falling, and Helene crumpled into a ball on the ground, trying to protect her womb and head as best she could. It was clear from her laughter that Ludmilla enjoyed the beating, and she did not stop until her hands grew tired.

Helene panted for breath on the muddy ground. She squinted up to see Ludmilla beaming at her vulnerability and then the guard’s boot covered her eyes.

“Stay out of my business from now on,” she said, pressing down just hard enough to cut off Helene’s breath but not to break any bones. Then she walked away.

When Ludmilla was out of sight, Anna hurried out of the workshop to help Helene, together with Alice and two other prisoners. With permission from the workshop guard, they carried her to the camp hospital. It was a small building with only ten beds and had few supplies. But compared to the sleeping barracks, it seemed clean and healthy, with freshly laundered sheets and wool mattresses.

The doctor was an Austrian Jew named Ruth who had been arrested for supposedly conspiring in a plot to take Hitler’s life, though nothing had ever been proven. Her long white hair swayed gently when she moved, and oversized glasses framed her large, kind eyes.

“What happened here?” Ruth said, rushing over when the door opened.

“Ludmilla again,” was all Anna had to say.

They stretched Helene out on a bed, and Ruth began to examine her.

Ruth shook her head. “That brute has killed two women already. Human life means nothing in this place. They give me hardly any medicines. It’s like they want to kill us all little by little.”

Anna sighed and nodded. She believed that was exactly what the Nazis’ plan was, however hard it was for humanitarian minds like the doctor’s to accept.

Ruth finished the exam and wrote something down in a chart. “She’s pregnant. Were you aware?”

“I knew it, I just knew it by her face,” Anna said, smiling, then she grew serious again as Helene whimpered. Blood was trickling down her legs.

“She might lose the baby. Besides rest, I’ll try to get her some milk, vitamins, and meat,” Ruth said, applying a compress to stop the bleeding.

Anna helped to clean the mud and blood off her friend and get her into a clean gown that smelled pleasantly of soap.

Helene’s body ached everywhere, and she was completely unaware of Anna and Ruth gently moving her body. Seconds after they laid her back down, she fell asleep.

When she woke the next day, she realized that there was an IV in her arm. She looked around but could not figure out where she was.

Ruth came up to the bed and stroked Helene’s forehead. “You’re going to be okay. The bleeding has stopped. We’ll see if you lose the baby, but it might turn out all right. I’ll keep you here for as long as I can so you can recover.”

It took all of Helene’s energy to speak. “Thank you.”

The doctor placed two books on Helene’s lap. “They’re the only ones I have. One Walter Scott and one Honoré de Balzac. They say there’s no better way to heal than between the pages of a book.”

Helene touched the spines and started to cry. She had nearly forgotten her previous life and what it was like to hold real words in her hands. Plus Derek had not answered her letters, and she had to work hard to convince herself that her fears were not true: that he would not abandon her to avoid putting himself and his family at risk.

“Thank you,” she said again.

Ruth held Helene’s hand in her own. “Now, get some rest so you can get better.”

After three days in the infirmary, Helene started to feel less terrible. The milk and steady diet of food put the color back in her cheeks and started to fill out her face.