For some, the New Year had started tragically. Since most of the youngsters had left the center with the psychologist's approval—who had issued a document confirming a marked improvement in their behavior—Sara had lost all remnants of hope.
The youngsters were able to return home and quietly finish their education at ordinary high schools, where they were no longer under the watchful eye of the Nazis.
The director had explained to the parents that a few children still remained in the building causing trouble, and he intended to focus solely on them to improve their behavior until the center could finally close. He planned to accomplish this by the vacation, as he was set to retire afterward.
The parents swallowed this lie with complete indifference toward their children. They believed the director's educational measures were appropriate, and leaving the disobedient children at the center during the holidays might serve as a punishment to bring them to their senses sooner.
The whole story sounded beautifully fabricated. But what would they do when the semester ended?
Sara suspected they wouldn't simply let them go home. How would they explain Simon's death? The parents had no clue that while they lived carefree lives, their son was dead.
The Nazis had a completely different mindset, and this terrified Sara. She didn't know if the next day she herself might no longer be needed, only to be killed without scruples. Though, didn't the same fate await them all? If they failed to escape, wouldn't they all die?
The General wasn't worried about his life. He was a ninety-year-old man with extraordinary strength; despite his senile age, he instilled panic and fear in the younger generation.
But as the saying went, the devil never takes the worst, which was why he still held up better than many sixty-year-olds.
Several hours had passed since Alan had locked Sara in her room. The girl noticed something was wrong with him, but she assumed it had to do with Oliver's involvement in the situation.
Alan no longer trusted her.
She rose from her bed when she heard a door open. The boy she loved entered, holding trays of food. But instead of the usual dry potatoes, the trays held a variety of tasty appetizers.
"Where did you get this food?" she asked cautiously, mirroring his cautious expression. The whole situation was beginning to bother her more and more.
"Let's just say I tried to take care of you. Thanks to me, you can eat all these delicacies."
"That's not the answer I was expecting," she said. "It's food that's impossible to find here. We've searched many times for anything besides rice and always came up empty."
The blond man shot her a nervous glance. He wasn't happy with the conclusions she was drawing.
"Are you implying I have arrangements with the Nazis?"
"I didn't say that. But it's funny that such a thought crossed your mind..." she said indignantly. She was furious because Alan was changing beyond recognition. His behavior was starting to bother her.
"So that's what you think of me? You're starting to grow indifferent toward me? Well, yes. Someone else has clearly turned your head," he mocked, a nervous smile creeping onto his face. "You're spectacular, Sara. It's true though—still waters run deep."
The smile disappeared from his face, and she saw madness in his eyes. He pressed his lips together and, without taking his eyes off her, rudely let the tray fall from his hands. The dishes shattered and food spilled across the floor.
He crossed his arms over his chest, awaiting her reaction. He expected her to be angry, but she looked clearly shocked by his arrogant behavior.
"If you want to freak out, then starve yourself. And if you have no shame, you can always eat the leftovers off the floor."
With pain in her eyes, she lifted her face and looked at him carefully. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, but this did not arouse any pity in him. On the contrary—he was furious.
"I think you'll choose the second option, because based on your past behavior, I think you're shameless."
Looking at her with distaste, he turned his back and prepared to leave the room.
Sara couldn't stand it.
This was too much. She would have endured anything—anything but being dismissed by the boy she loved. Until now, Alan had been the most important thing in her life, the one who brought her a happiness she hadn't felt in a long time.
How could he treat her in such a despicable way? He was making her lose all respect for him.
She threw herself at him, drenched in tears, pounding on his back with her fists, screaming and pleading for him to stop being such an asshole. But her words did not reach him. He turned to face her, grabbing her wrists to calm her down.
"Master yourself!" he shouted as she started crying loudly. Slowly, she slid to the floor, still held by him. She lowered her head, choking on her tears. The boy closed his eyes and looked away, unable to bear it any longer.
Laura suddenly burst into the room. Her eyes widened at the sight of her suffering friend. She sat at Alan's feet, and he looked at her with clear frustration.
"I was momentarily unavailable, but now I see I missed a lot. I suspected I'd find my roommate here; I just didn't expect her to be in such a state. You scoundrel... how dare you make her cry!" she shouted, clearly shocked by the actions of the boy she had once cherished and wanted desperately to see by Sara's side.
The death of a loved one had driven Laura to dangerous mood swings. She felt such rage that her legs moved on their own toward her friend and the boyfriend standing beside her.
She stood on tiptoe and, clenching her teeth, grabbed Alan's hair without restraint. She pulled with such force it seemed she wanted to tear out a lock. The bent boy groaned in pain, but Laura believed this was too little punishment for bringing Sarah to such a state.
"I'll kill you. I'll make you a joke for the General," she hissed hysterically.
"Laura, leave him." Sara's words stopped her. Shocked, Laura shifted her gaze and looked at Sara questioningly. "She hasn't been herself lately."
"Are you defending him? Do you see the state he's put you in?" Laura pierced Alan with a sharp glance and then left, leaving a warning trail behind.
Laura's nails had left scratches on his face as if he had tangled with a rabid cat.
"I'd rather not see you here when I get back." Alan directed those words more at Sara than himself, then left the room.
Laura crouched beside her roommate and wiped the tears from her face with her hands. She had never seen Sara in such a state before. The girl looked both heartbroken and scared after the argument with Alan.
"That cursed bastard. Oliver was right when he said he was the devil incarnate. He definitely can show his horns," she said frantically, helping her friend to her feet. "Let's go to our room, and you can tell me what happened."
"How did you know I was here?"
"You'd been missing for a few hours, so that was the first place I thought to look. But I didn't expect to find you like this. I thought I'd tear his head off," Laura said, still furious, unable to come to terms with what she had just witnessed.
*
Oliver smiled crookedly as he recalled the director's words, informing him that he was no longer needed. He had been ordered to sit quietly and not interfere with any plans, as doing so could reflect badly on him.
Those people knew full well that Oliver sided with the youth, so they never discussed anything important in front of him. So far, he had only obeyed their orders, and since he hadn't caused any serious damage, they let him live. But he had to be careful; otherwise, he might end up like the orphans who had died from prying too much.
"But what merciful people you are. Now that you have a trusted informer, you don't need me anymore," he mocked under his breath as he headed down the corridor to the girls' room. He wanted to check on Sara, since he hadn't seen her in hours.
Oliver knew well that, in time, they would get rid of him. He could live as long as they allowed it, but when it was all over, they'd kill everyone one by one. The Nazis had no scruples; to them, killing an innocent person was like swatting an annoying bug.
The brunet entered the girls' room and immediately froze when he saw Sara crying. Laura hugged her from behind — quite the opposite of what he had seen earlier, when Sara had comforted Laura. Why was it now Sara who was crying? Had something happened?
"Stop defending him, Sara. He locked you in a room for hours and treated you horribly. His true nature is only now coming to light. He was pulling the wool over our eyes before. Oliver was right, but no one believed him," Laura said softly, stroking her friend's hair.
"Is it because of this asshole that you're crying, Sara?"
Only now did the girls notice Oliver in the room. He mirrored their expressions with his eyes, silently waiting for an answer.
Sara was shocked to see him clench his fists in anger. She didn't want him to do anything rash, but before she could react, Oliver stormed out, his mood combative, ready to bring trouble on himself.
Without a word, Sara got off the bed and ran after him. She caught up with him on the stairs and pressed her face into his back to stop him.
Oliver looked confused.
"Don't do anything stupid, please," she whispered, holding him tighter.
"Sara."
"Don't get involved in this, Oliver. I can handle my problems."
"Are you defending him?" he asked, his voice tinged with regret. He was hurt that despite the suffering Alan had caused her, she still stood by him.
"I'm not defending him. I'm just looking out for your safety. I don't want you to get dragged into something that doesn't concern you. You already have enough on your mind."
Oliver turned to face her and looked deep into her eyes.
"You're suffering because of him, Sara. I can't bear to see it anymore. It hurts my heart when you're sad."
"I'm worried about you, too. Please don't do anything that could get you into trouble, okay?"
He studied her face silently for a moment, then finally nodded in agreement.
"I'll hold back for now, but if he makes you cry again, then…" He didn't finish the sentence, as Sara interrupted him.
"Yes, I know. You'll stand like a wall behind me, and he'll regret it bitterly."
A slight smile appeared on her face. Oliver was a wonderful friend, and with him around, she felt safe — truly convinced that his concern was genuine.
*
It was the middle of the night. Sara couldn't get a wink of sleep. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Alan and his strange behavior. He was nothing like the incredible boy she had fallen in love with. Something dark and disturbing was happening to him.
She sensed it had something to do with the General, but she pushed the thought away, forcing herself to believe Alan felt betrayed and that his anger was just a result of that. But deep down, she wondered if that was really the whole story.
Meanwhile, Laura slept curled up against a pillow, with Simon silently keeping watch beside her. He gently touched her shoulder, and the cold made her flinch.
She had no idea he was still there, unwilling to leave her side, determined to keep her safe. Though powerless to intervene, he gave her a pure, unwavering love — a love so strong that he would have died for her.
"This is the first night it's so quiet," Sara whispered to Simon, who nodded as if he understood. "The first night, she don't quietly sob into pillow."
Suddenly, a knock on the door startled the teenage girl. Nervously, she glanced at the ghost and then climbed out of bed.
"It's me, Oliver," came the soft voice from the other side.
Sara opened the door, surprised but relieved to see him. The boy glanced at the sleeping Laura and gently lifted the pillow he had brought with him.
"It's kind of strange in my room now that Matthew won't talk to me. I can't seem to fall asleep there. Besides, I was worried about you. Can I spend the night here?"
Sara smiled warmly and nodded.
"Two men in a girl's room? That sounds a bit troublesome," she teased. Oliver looked around the room, confused, since he was alone. Sara winked at Simon, who only shrugged. "The floor is pretty spacious, so you won't run out of room."
She saw disappointment flash across Oliver's face but tossed the pillow to the floor and lay down obediently.
"If you're not afraid of ghosts, then good night." She caught the sudden widening of his eyes — a flicker of fear. Oliver always played the tough guy, but deep down, he was an even bigger cynic than the girls.
"What do you mean? Is someone here?"
"I told you — you're not the only man in this room. Sleep now, or you'll wake my roommate."
"Who is he?"
"Laura's guest," she replied. That was enough for Oliver to understand.
"Is that why it's so cold in here?"
Sara remained silent, simply throwing a blanket she kept at the edge of the bed over him.
"Stop whining and fall asleep already, or next time I won't let you in."
"Are you sure there aren't more ghosts? It's disturbingly cold."
Sara raised her head and shot him a warning look.
"It's winter. The building's old. The Nazis probably don't heat it — they're used to the cold."
"I have low blood pressure, so I get cold easier than you," he grumbled.
"You used to sleep in your own room and never complained."
"Because I shared a bed with Matthew," he defended himself.
Sara furrowed her brow, finding it odd that two grown men slept under one feather.
"And since Matthew won't talk to you, you thought I'd let you sleep in my bed?" she teased, reading his mischievous intentions.
Oliver flashed a wide grin, pleased she'd figured him out so quickly.
"No way. I'm not sleeping in bed with the enemy," she joked.
"Enemy?" Oliver almost shouted, offended.
"You worked with the Nazis. You're my enemy." She could tell by his reaction he was more affected than he let on.
"Hey, what's with that face?"
"They expelled me. I'm no longer spying for them. They have a replacement," he said sourly.
Sara sat up, shocked. If they didn't need him anymore, wasn't he in danger now?
A chill ran down her spine.
"What are you going to do?"
"Sara, you know Alan joined them. It's hard to accept, but it's true. He's working with the General — that's why he's been acting worse every day."
She wanted to believe otherwise, but deep down, she knew Oliver was telling the truth.
"Are you safe?"
Oliver snorted and shrugged dismissively.
"Is anyone safe? I just live with the thought: whatever will be. I'm not counting on a miracle."