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Kindle Notes & Highlights
On the surface, Zalman’s story was too much like his own, he thought. But weren’t they all the same, really? And yet he had to make sure there was not a shred of untruth in the tale. These days, even children were not to be trusted.
He became a voyeur of sorts, no longer a participant in his own life. Just like watching an old movie reel, not being a part of anything, not feeling. That was the only way to exist, to cope.
Frau Blanc was a woman of few words, but her actions, at least the way Jacob saw it, were thunderous.
Most were ageless, different, perhaps, but essentially all the same in the eyes of their captors, who laughed and pushed them forward, ever forward. They walked. The group joined others, and more joined them until they were a mass, a great wave. Were there twenty, a hundred? No one took the time or had the inclination to count. Just forward, one step in front of the other, all silent, with brains that had long ago stopped thinking and hearts that, despite their desires, would not cease.
