Chapter 14
Thyme crushed beneath a boot, the bowed head of a wilted flower, the acrid smell of smoke—this is the perfume of destruction. The sacrilegious scent of annihilation cloys the air like cheap perfume. Pray, what sort of aromas are these? –DB
15 June, 1940 - Poland
Today is the day, Danielle thought, trying to appear calm as she stepped into the car with Oscar. She thought about her new plan as they drove. Time was running out and she had exhausted all leads, all possibilities, save one. Heinrich. She’d finally found a lead on Max’s cousin, who was now part of the SS. A few days ago she’d heard that Heinrich would be attending a party at the old Czapenski estate. She found the caterer, a café owner, and discovered she needed help. Luckily, the caterer hired her. Today was her fi
