Part 2
The pain was beyond anything Tatiana had ever imagined.
Strapped to the cold metal table, blood still roaring in her ears from the suspension, she felt instruments of calculated cruelty press against her body.
The German officer’s voice slithered through the haze.
“Names.
Routes.
Contacts.
Give them to us, and this ends.”
She spat blood instead of answers.
They increased the pressure.
Her body convulsed.
Visions of her father’s warm bakery, the scent of fresh bread, and the Jewish girl’s desperate cries flashed through her mind.
Each scream they tore from her throat became a vow: I will not break for you.
Hours blurred.
The guards grew frustrated.
One whispered that stronger methods would be used—methods that had broken stronger souls.
As they prepared the next phase, Tatiana’s vision darkened at the edges.
Yet in that abyss of agony, a single, defiant thought burned brighter than the pain.
She would survive this.
Not for glory.
Not even for revenge.
For the bread she still believed could feed dignity.
Then the door burst open.
A superior officer stormed in, shouting urgent orders in rapid German.
Something had changed.
The war outside was shifting.
But before relief could come, the lead tormentor leaned close to her ear with a final, venomous promise.
“This is only the beginning for you, little baker.
.
.
”
Disclaimer : This content may be created by AI for entertainment purposes. Any resemblance to real persons, events, or places is coincidental.
