When Forever Ends

WHEN FOREVERENDS BLOOD SISTERS BOOK THREE ROBERTA KAGAN CONTENTS Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Chapter 55 Chapter 56 Chapter 57 Chapter 58 Chapter 59 Chapter 60 Chapter 61 Chapter 62 Chapter 63 Chapter 64 Chapter 65 Chapter 66 Chapter 67 Chapter 68 Chapter 69 Epilogue Authors Note About the Author More Books By Roberta Kagan PROLOGUE 1944 Wolfgang Fischer, known affectionately as Ulf by his friends and family, stretched his arms above his head. Then straightened his back as he walked through the cellar of the home he’d been given as a reward for his loyal devotion to the Nazi party. Quite satisfied with his work in the cellar, a smile broke across his young, handsome face. It took some work to clean and prepare the area. And he’d been busy with his official assignment with the nazi party. Still, he’d done the preparations after hours, and now he’d completed all that had been required. It’s finished, and I think it will be perfect. It’s almost ready. All I need is the cage, and I can bring home my special little guest. He climbed the stairs quickly, for he was an agile man. His long muscular legs were sturdy. Once upstairs, he entered the living room and picked up the telephone receiver. He let out a deep breath, then dialed the operator. “Connect me to the Gestapo headquarters, extension 238,” he said. “Right away, Herr Fischer,” a young female operator answered. There was a brief silence, followed by a ringing sound. Then a woman’s voice answered the call, “Herr Fischer’s desk.” It was Wolfgang’s secretary. “Pipi, it’s me, Ulf,” he said in a casual, friendly tone. “Hello, Ulf. What can I do for you?” Pipi said. As soon as she heard his voice, her own voice became warm and welcoming. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor.” “Of course. What do you need?” She was an excellent secretary, always pleasant, and willing to work. Ulf knew she had always had a secret crush on him. But she just wasn’t his type. He thought about her. It’s a pity for Pipi that I just don’t have any romantic interest in her. She’d make a good Aryan hausfrau. And, of course, she sees me as a good provider. A man with the potential to rise in the party. I suppose I am the kind of fellow the girls were told to look for when they attended their little bund meetings. He smiled at the thought. “Ulf? Are you there?” Pipi asked, and he realized he had been so lost in thought he’d been silent for several moments. “Yes, I’m here. Sorry. I think something was wrong with our connection. But I’m here now.” Then he cleared his throat. “Pipi, can you please take a moment and go downstairs to the basement of the building? I need you to check if there are any dog cages available. I would like to borrow one for a little while.” Then he cleared his throat, “And, Pipi, make sure it’s a large cage.” “Sure. Can you hold on for a minute, or shall I call you back?” “Call me back.” “All right, give me a few minutes, and I will telephone you right back.” Ulf placed the receiver back in its cradle. Then he went into the kitchen and sat down at the table where he cut himself a nice thick slice of white bread that he’d purchased at the bakery on his way home from work earlier that day. It was fresh and soft, with a light, flaky crust. White bread like this was a luxury that very few German citizens were privileged to enjoy. But he was a high-ranking official in the Nazi party, working for the Gestapo. He didn’t need to eat that terrible brown bread that the regular population of German people was told they must eat if they were loyal to the party. That brown bread is made with sawdust. He thought as he shook his head in disgust. Then he slathered a thick mound of real butter on to his bread. Another luxury denied the general population. Good food was a luxury. And good German hausfraus were taught to prepare meals with inferior ingredients these days so that better-quality food could be given to the soldiers who fought for the fatherland. Although, Ulf knew that the better food never made it that far. It usually ended up on the tables of the higher-ranking Nazis. Still, every good German family was told they must make these sacrifices for their country. For a mere second, Ulf felt a slight pang of guilt when he thought about the brown bread and the loyal Germans who served it to their children. But the guilt was soon fleeting, and he grew tired of caring about anything. Once, he’d been devoted to Hitler and the Nazi vision for the Fatherland, but as time passed, he saw the faults in the Nazi party. Hitler did not keep his promises to the German people. He was a liar. And Ulf could see through him. So, now, Ulf was devoted to no other than himself and was not about to give up any luxuries he could acquire. He’d just taken a bite of bread when the phone rang. He swallowed quickly. Then, after wiping his hand on a kitchen towel, he picked