The evacuation began in January.  Kurt was kept very busy overseeing the day-long loading of trains.  He knew they couldn’t leave right away- Nora had to disappear at just the right time for it to go unnoticed.  He wasn’t able to see Nora, and nerves kept him fitfully awake at night.  He was sick with longing for her.  They were so close to their freedom, yet still it remained far enough away to mock him.  He still didn’t know what exactly was in front of him, but he kept his eager eyes open.  He was ready for anything that God could present him and Nora with.

  The night before her camp section was to be evacuated, he found her and brought her back to his barrack, quietly sneaking her in when none of the other men would see her.  He closed the door behind him and gazed at her.  He had their suitcases lying open on his bed.  Nora touched the neatly folded clothes in hers, tears coming to her eyes at the thought of being able to wear a proper dress again.  Kurt touched the back of her arm.  He embraced her and kissed the back of her neck, smelling her hair.  They weren’t entirely ready for everything.  Nora had to bathe and make herself back into a pretty young woman unused to labor.  And she still had a black tattoo of numbers on her forearm.  Neither Kurt nor Nora really knew how to get rid of it- perhaps Nora could just stick to wearing long sleeves, but that would be impractical as they didn’t know how long they would have to fake Nora being German.  They had finally concluded that they had two options- cut it off or burn it off.  They settled on burning because Kurt wasn’t a surgeon and if he made the slightest mistake in cutting it could kill Nora.  So they were left with his old cigarette lighter.  It was a dingy old rectangular aluminum capsule that his father had given him.  He’d kept it in his pocket for all his years in the SS and used it to light a cigarette after every round of executions.

Nora sat in his lap as he sat on the bed, slightly turned so that he could see clearly over her shoulder.  She extended her right arm so that Kurt held her wrist with his right hand.  In his left hand was the lighter.  

“Are you ready for this?” he asked.  It was more for himself than for her.  Her wrist in his hand felt soft and delicate.  Her fingers curled around his.

“Just do it,” she said, “Get it over with.”  Kurt flicked open the lighter and the flame sparked into life.  His heart pounded and his breath trembled as he held it to the pale flesh of her arm, pausing just before it touched.  Nora was perfectly still.
  
“Come on, Kurt,” she said, “You have to do it.”  Kurt nodded, took in a deep breath, and brought the flame to her skin.  Nora winced and inhaled sharply, but she swallowed her pain.  Her left hand clenched into a fist and her right hand gripped Kurt’s thigh.  Kurt would have to burn through the skin entirely to make sure absolutely no trace but a burn scar was left behind.  He could feel his hands beginning to tremble as the familiar odor of burning flesh reached his nose, but he focused his attention on the number he was holding the flame to, and kept his hand steady.  He could feel Nora’s fingernails biting into his though even through the fabric of his uniform.  

“Just hold on,” he whispered.  Sweat was beading at his forehead. He bit his lower lip in concentration.  Nora’s back arched stiff against his chest.  She kept her face turned away, her eyes squeezed shut.  His arms were getting tired.

“Just hold on.”

He watched the last number burn away, and then flicked the lighter shut.  Nora let out a heavy sigh of relief, and fell limp, Kurt still holding onto her arm.  They stood up and. walked into his bathroom where he ran cool water over the burn.  He washed it out, trying to avoid any infection.  He knew that if a doctor took a look at it he would see it as a deliberate burn immediately.  Kurt kissed Nora’s neck and ear, whispering that he was sorry.

“No, no, don’t say that,” said Nora, “Thank you.  Thank you so much for getting that ugly thing off of me.”  She turned to face him, and touched his cheek.  Tears were in her eyes, but not from pain.  Kurt smiled.

“I’ll let you take a bath, then,” he said, and stepped away.  He lay down on his bed and listened to water pouring through the pipes and onto the tiled floor of the shower.  He put his hands behind his back and stared up at the ceiling.  He hadn’t known what he’d expected for himself the first time he stared up at it, but this was the last thing he could have ever possibly thought he would experience to feel as his eyes traversed the fin cobwebs in the corners: happy.  He heard the water shut off.  Nora had placed a few things in there when she first arrived in his barrack- womanly things: a hairbrush, shampoo, nice soap.  Kurt envisioned her brushing out her long, dark curls and smiled.  

The door opened with a creak small creak, and he heard Nora’s quiet voice, “Kurt?”  She gazed at him, slightly nervous, a hand at the back of her neck.  He had to sit up.  She was the most utterly stunning thing he had ever seen in his entire life.  She wore a pale powder blue satin nightgown with delicate ivory lace on the straps, bottom hem and the tops of her breasts.  It hugged each one of her curves and trailed lightly over her bare feet.  Her hair hung in dark, wet curls over her shoulders.  Her pale, clean skin was rosy from the warmth of the shower, making her glow.  Her bright green eyes stood out from across the room, still as bright as they had always been.  She had a bandage over her burn, but it didn’t distract from her beauty, finally wearing something that allowed her the full dignity that was rightfully hers.  Kurt didn’t know what to say.  Nora just smiled at his speechlessness, laughing softly.  She walked over to him and took his hands in hers, sitting down beside him.  She kissed him.  He took her into his arms, drawing her in as closely as he could.  She was his redemption.  He could finally let go of what he’d been and forgive himself.  He was no longer ashamed and afraid.  In her arms, Kurt felt clean and new and pure.