“It is for Olivia Soutine and her unborn child and the little girl you left without a mother—for the man you left without a wife. That is for every person you have killed. For every child you have left an orphan. For every Jew you’ve carried off to your slaughterhouses. For Patrick O’Leary and for Alex.” I take a step toward Wolff and put my foot on his neck, then press harder, hastening the process. “That is for France.”
