Before Our Dawn| ongoing

thirty

Chapitre trente
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Summer of 1941. It was June 15th. Sophie's birthday.

Her birthday came and went with little celebration. Isra had greeted her with a heartfelt "Happy birthday" in the morning, but there was no cake and no presents. By now, Sophie understood that these were difficult times, and there was little cause for celebration. The day marked another year in a world marred by war and suffering. To mark the occasion, Isra took Sophie for a quiet stroll in the park, a simple but meaningful way to spend her special day.

She allowed Sophie to have an extra portion of soup for lunch and even some tea. But, goodness, Isra was tired of soup. Sophie was too, but there were no other options. 

She poked at her soup with her spoon and scrunched her nose. "Mama, I don't like soup anymore."

Isra managed a weak smile and ruffled Sophie's hair. "I know, sweetheart. I promise we'll find something different when the situation gets better. But for now, we have to be grateful we have something to eat."

The remainder of the day unfolded with little fanfare. Sophie immersed herself in play within the confines of her nursery, Isra burned through cigarettes and sought solace in the pages of Les Misérables, and as the evening crept in, she prepared to tuck her daughter in.

Just as she was about to finish Sophie's bedtime routine, a sudden knock at the door broke the monotony of their isolated existence. With slight anticipation and apprehension, Isra left Sophie in the room and cautiously made her way to answer the door.

Her heart pounded as she opened the door, revealing Hans standing there. He appeared as if nothing had changed, well-fed and healthy, bearing a bouquet of crimson roses and a box of chocolates. Isra hadn't laid eyes on him since March, and the relief at seeing him alive was mixed with an undercurrent of anger for his unannounced absence.

She stepped back and he entered the apartment, swinging the door shut. Her eyes locked onto his bouquet of roses and the box of chocolates. Hans offered them to her, his face contrite. "I... these are for you."

Her lips trembled, but anger and confusion gripped her. "Where have you been, Hans? You vanished without a word! I didn't know if you were alive or dead, and you just show up with roses and chocolates?" She folded her arms, her gaze piercing through him.

"Isra, I... I had no choice. I was called away on a special assignment. I couldn't even tell you or leave any trace."

"You have no idea what it's been like, living day by day in this chaos without knowing if you're even alive!"

Hans extended the roses and chocolates toward her again. "Please accept my apology." 

She hesitated but didn't take the flowers or chocolates from him.

Hans dropped his shoulders in defeat. "I'll leave them here then." He placed the gifts on the table by the door. "I can go if you'd like."

He looked so sincere, but she couldn't easily let go of the weeks of anxiety and fear she had suffered. She wanted to cry again. Tired as she was of shedding tears over meaningless things, she was still glad to see that he was alive and well.

"No, don't go. I know you're sorry. I'm just angry. I missed you, that's all."

Hans nodded, but he didn't completely believe her. He went to go sit on the sofa. He was cautious in his approach, not wanting to push her too hard. "I'll make it up to you and Sophie. I swear."

She sighed, her anger softening as she looked at him, still standing by the door. "I just want to know that you're okay. We don't have much left in this world. Knowing you're safe, that's what really matters."