“Don’t kill her.” The mother sobbed as she sheltered her child best as she could. The star upon her chest told the Nazi she was Jewish. Though he didn’t need the star to tell him, for he loved this woman once. (He still loved her but he would never show it.) “Why shouldn’t I?” The Nazi hissed cruelly.
“Please.” She whimpered, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Paul, she’s your daughter.”
“There’s no way, Ruth. We were together so many years ago…” His voice faded into the bitter rain. The child stepped up tentatively to compare her auburn hair to the man her mother said was her father’s.
“My hair is the same shade as yours. Mother’s hair is blonde. You must be my father.” She whispered
“T-there’re other men with auburn hair!
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