FEBRUARY 18, 1943 Gestapo Headquarters The cars screech to a halt, officers pull us out by the arms, haul us inside and off to separate rooms, my heartbeat pounding all the while, boom-boom, boom-boom. They swing the door shut, unlock my handcuffs, order me to sit, rush about with coats, hats, cases, papers as I try not to give in to the overwhelming, sickening knowledge spreading through me: the two of us are trapped in this net because of me. Boom-boom, boom-boom. I take a deep breath and prepare to fight for our lives. INTERROGATION I carefully blend a cupful of lies into the bucket of truth spread out in front of me as Herr Mohr shoots question after question, trying to catch me off-guard. Fräulein Scholl, why were you carrying an empty suitcase with you to the university? So I could pick up clean laundry from home. And why were you at the university if you were planning to head to Ulm? So I could let my friend Gisela know I couldn't meet her for lunch after all. Why were you and your brother in the corridor upstairs? So I could show him the Psychological Institute where I take classes. His eyes narrow, his voice icy, Herr Mohr is good at this, but he doesn't know that I'm good, too. Boom-boom, boom-boom. My voice sounds so calm telling these lies, I barely recognize the words as my own. Excerpted from White Rose by Kip Wilson All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
