East sat on the examination table as Auschwitz checked her breathing, heartbeat, blood pressure, and whatever other data he said he needed to collect. Apparently she was his first countryhuman patient. She didn't know how to feel about that.

“110 beats per minute,” Auschwitz murmured, his brow furrowing. “Are you stressed, Junge Frau?”

East shook her head. In truth, she was. But she had learned that showing signs of unease was frowned upon, and only caused Auschwitz to watch her even more intensely.

“Hmm,” Auschwitz muttered, keeping his analytically cold black eyes narrowed so far East could barely see the white that made up his pupils. “Well, I don’t have much planned for you today. Just an injection of-”

“You don't deserve that broken halo of yours, nor your title, Herr Auschwitz,” East murmured as Auschwitz pulled some of the solution he was going to test on East from a vial. He paused when she spoke.

“And who told you that?” Auschwitz asked stiffly, wiping the side of East's arm with gauze that had been dampened with chilly hydrogen-peroxide.

“You didn't earn that halo, Herr Auschwitz. You stole it, from the light of the eyes of the children you gassed,” East continued, “You hurt people and got rewarded. How does that work?”

Auschwitz pursed his lips before setting down the syringe he was holding. “You're far too precocious for your own good, Fraulein. I think it's time for you to sleep.”