He gazed down at his fingers coated in the wet ash. Then his eyes flicked up to meet hers again. They started a game of catch-me-if-you-can. He quickly moved to the right as if he were about to run around the table to grab her, and she instinctively darted to the left.
He did this several times until he finally chose to run around the table, causing Charlotte to do the same. They circled the table in that fashion several times. Charlotte was more careful than Rainer. She left the chairs untouched, but he tore them out from under the dining room table and sent them crashing to the floor, making it harder for Charlotte to pass by them the next round. He started to laugh. Charlotte was crying, but she didn't notice. At one point, the sash of her bathrobe caught on the foot of an upturned chair. She frantically untied it to free herself before Rainer could catch up to her, but it caused her bathrobe to flutter open, revealing her naked body beneath it to her aggressor. For a second, he stopped in his tracks, drinking in the sight of her nude body with hunger in his blue eyes. Then he laughed out loud and continued running after her, plowing through the chairs he'd laid on the floor to hopefully trap her.
To Rainer, chasing her around the table was a game. To Charlotte—Eliora—it was a matter of life and death.
"You're quite flink (quick) for a pregnant woman," he panted. Eliora ignored him and kept running. She couldn't think straight. Ever since the bathrobe had swung open, all rational thought had abandoned her and was replaced by sheer panic. She didn't notice that Rainer had stopped running, so she plowed right into him as she ran around the table. He grabbed her and pressed her up against his chest. "There you are, Eliora. Ran right into my arms, didn't you." He looked down into her shocked expression. Then he raised his hand and groped her face, smearing the ash all over her cheek and the bridge of her nose. He moved his hand to the back of her head, tugging at her hair. "Now you look better. Like a Jew. Ashes, ashes." He cooed.
"Get the fuck away from me, Rainer." She gasped, regaining her voice and some of her ability to think. He pulled at her hair greedily, causing her to yelp in pain.
He picked her up again, sat her on the table, and spread her legs. He kept his left hand firmly clenched around her throat, blocking the airflow through her windpipe. His right hand slipped between her thighs and pushed into her. Eliora gurgled something indistinctable.
A second later, Rainer pulled his fingers back out. His eyes were wide in surprise. In his hand, he held out the tampon he'd pulled out with his hand. "You aren't pregnant?" He whispered hoarsely. Eliora froze up. Her cover was blown. For what other reason would somebody in her position fake a pregnancy other than to go into hiding secretly? He'd suspected her of being a Jew; he'd even dug deep enough through documents or people's memories that Eliora didn't even know existed or didn't remember, and now he held a final piece of evidence, something that supported his accusation far enough that even the false Aryan bloodline she'd put together wouldn't save her. The authorities would find out about Eliora Drexel, and Charlotte Reißer would cease to exist.
"You're brilliant, I admit that." He said with a chuckle and tossed the tampon onto the ground. "But how were you going to get a child? Were you going to say it died at childbirth? Or were you planning to run?"
Eliora didn't answer.
"Anyway, it doesn't matter now, does it." He pulled her flush against him. "I must say, I would have rather you been pregnant. I don't care for menstrual odors, but the blood makes it more dramatic, right?"
"You fucking-."
"Don't." He pressed his finger to her lips to silence her. "This makeup suits you better," he said, referring to the blend of blood and ash he'd mixed onto her face. "You don't look like a pretty German woman anymore. You can't hide who you truly are, Eliora." He said in a sing-song voice. "Not from me." She struggled against him, but he held her tight.
He unbuckled his belt as she trashed against him. His arm snaked around her neck, choking her. If she tried to twist out of his grip, he could break her neck. He pinned her down to the table, using his upper body to push her knees apart.
The neighbors downstairs, who had been startled by all the commotion, stopped thinking something might be wrong. The chairs had stopped crashing to the ground, and nobody was shouting anymore. They assumed that the Reißers had gotten into another one of their notorious heated arguments but had swiftly reconciled as the two often did.
Nobody came up to check on Charlotte.