Picking her way through the crowded maze of tables, she paused long enough to share a flirtatious smile with the men, long enough to get a good look at their faces and determine they were not the one she was looking for.

Finally, she spotted him. The officer who had moved Erina's curl from her face, calling her pretty and sneering at the same time. A quick glance at the other cabaret girls confirmed what Rozaliya had hoped. A number of them were now seated with the men in the club, some on tables, some on laps, some on abandoned chairs, while other girls were dancing with the men to the faint strains of the band, overlain by chattering, laughter, and beer steins clinking. Here in the heart of the Axis powers, there was merriment aplenty.

Not for Rozaliya.

She moved toward the Nazi officer, sin...

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