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"Daniel?" Jakub forced his voice into the street. He cranked his neck left toward the river, then right toward the city center. Then he spotted him. Spotted them. Daniel was desperately chasing two men, SS soldiers, who hauled their father between them. Father! Jakub watched, eyes wide, as Daniel ran toward the men. "No!
Come back!" Jakub shouted. "Daniel, stop!" The horn of a motorcar blared, drowning out his desperate plea. Jakub watched as Daniel reached the men. As if in slow motion,
he saw his younger brother stretching a hand for Father's coat. One SS solider spun and hit Daniel in the shoulder with the butt of his rifle. Daniel crumpled to the ground, but his hands still clung to the coat. The second soldier joined in, hitting
Daniel's hands again, again, again. "No!" Jakub screamed. Not his hands. Anything but his hands.