There was a dangerous glimmer in his eyes as if he were running a fever. ‘I can’t go on like this any more. I am starting to forget, I can’t remember my wife’s face or my son’s. I keep trying to picture them, their features, how they used to walk, their voices, their smiles, but it’s just one big blur. God, I’ve lost them. What shall I do?’ He stared at the prince as if he might extract an answer if he waited long enough, but the prince remained silent. From then on, Max debated with the prince every night. ‘Look, I don’t think I can survive another winter here. So many of us have died. ‘I’ve become a walking skeleton. I don’t want to end up being stored in a shed for months, only to be thrown into a shallow grave in this godforsaken place. What could be worse than staying in this hellhole?’ ‘You could get yourself shot if they catch you,’ Anton whispered. Does he never sleep? Max thought, irritated. ‘Remember when Otto from Hamburg tried to escape last winter?
