<span style="font-style: italic">"Guten Abend, Madam!" </span>The strangely familiar blond man said. Adina felt the colour rising in her cheeks. There was something otherworldly about this man and it made her stomach flip.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">“Guten Abend,” </span>she replied, moving towards him. She tipped her head to one side, her grey eyes locked on his, staring intently, taking in everything of his appearance. He was a Nazi, that much was sure and despite unpicking the star from her lapel earlier that day, there was a lingering paranoia that he saw her for what she really was. And yet she’d managed to trick the men at the door. Why should this one be any more difficult to persuade than them? She concentrated on forming her words as clearly as possible, wiping all trace of her Yiddish tongue and spoke in the same formal German she’d used on the men at the door.<br/><br/>“I apologise if I’m speaking out of turn, Sir but I’m certain I recognise you. There’s something familiar in your countenance that convinces me we may not be entirely strange to one another.” She frowned, unsure whether to be honest or to continue talking in riddles. She thought back to the vision she’d seen in the bowl of water. She was meant to be here tonight, meant to be talking to this imposing Nazi. Maybe the truth wouldn’t be entirely inappropriate.<br/><br/>“Can I be blunt with you Sir?” She asked and then continued without waiting for his reply. “I think I may have dreamt of you.” She bit her bottom lip, nervously waiting for his response.